Beautiful Disasters
by Ice Cream Queen Zshi
Summary: "Before they met, the world was grey with random splotches of red. But when he entered into the room, it was like he sprayed various shades of blue and suddenly the world seemed so different, especially when she looked at it from his point of view.." - The life of a Puff or Ruff is never easy. Sometimes, it's your counterpart that helps you the most. (Now including Powerpunks!)
1. Chapter 1

**You-DARN IT, ZSHIZSHI! THIS ISN'T SERPENTINE OR GREEN MAIDEN!**

 **I'M SORRY, DON'T BE MAD AT ME GUYS! THE PLOT BUNNIES GOT OUT AND I'M TRYING TO GET THEM BACK IN, BUT THEY KEEP MULTIPLYING! DX**

 **Gotta love the greens. Especially Butch, I like the idea of him being a master of snark (all these kids are snark masters, TBH). Plus the Blues would definitely be so done over the fact that the Reds and Greens always fight. I bet Bubbles and Boomer want a vacation.**

* * *

She wasn't sure how she got here...actually, she remembered how it began. Buttercup just wasn't sure how she got _here_ with _him_ of all people.

It had been a pretty crappy day. First off, it was Picture Day at school, which meant that Buttercup had to dress girly for pictures.

Strike 1.

Then, they missed breakfast because the professor accidentally blew something up in his lab. So, she went to school hungry.

Strike 2.

Then they had a surprise math quiz that she barely got two answers right on. It was just a small one, not even counting towards her grade. Little Miss Perfect, however, saw it as the best opportunity to lecture her on how she "would have passed had she studied harder" and that "maybe this will show her to take school seriously".

Strike 3

So, of course, Buttercup was done at that point. Bubbles proved to be the wise one when she mentioned to their sister that maybe she should back off. Buttercup looked ready to bite her head off.

Nope.

The Commander and Leader feared no one.

Her lack of insight into her sister's temper despite being together since birth resulted in a screaming match where Buttercup basically called her every word under the sun.

Detention.

Strike 4

Of course, she's done twice over now and had to deal with a seething redhead, a lecture from the Professor about her temper, and no dessert for a week.

At least Bubbles took the time to mention to Blossom that she could have avoided the entire situation if she had left Buttercup alone. "You know she hates Picture Day. You know we didn't get breakfast. Do you think it feels good failing a quiz, because it doesn't. So why on Earth would you think it's a good idea to just add fuel to the fire, Blossom 'Holier Than Thou' Utonium?"

She loved Bubbles. Bubbles is her favorite. Blossom could suck it.

Of course, by then, she's so done, Buttercup is practically overcooked. So, she decided to vacate the premises until such time as she didn't feel like flipping the town upside down. Now, she's done this before.

Her longest stint was when she left and trained in Thailand, learning how to control herself in battle.

Good times.

Buttercup was like any other kid. She got huffy, cranky, and threw temper tantrums. But she was held to a higher standard because of her superpowers. Temper tantrums were scary when you had heat vision.

So, she found herself feeling suffocated when she was really stressed. She just wanted to be left alone, anyway. Sooner or later, her sisters would scour the city for her (again) and she'd listen to Blossom nag about her running off (again) before she shouts right back at her (again) and they're back to square one with Bubbles shaking her head in the background.

But not today, it seems, as Buttercup's suddenly found herself flying in a different direction than she intended and smashing into a building. "Ugh, what gives!" She coughed, pulling herself out of the Buttercup shaped hole.

"Look, what I found! A stupid puff!" Oh, of course! That makes _sense._ Life didn't suck nearly enough without her favorite moronic douchebag.

Butch Jojo of the Rowdyruff Boys.

Said idiot floated above her with a condescending smirk and arms crossed.

Nope. Not today. She can't deal today. Buttercup sent him a lovely hand signal before floating off. He blinked.

Usually when he even breathed in her general direction, he would up with a kick to the nuts. What gives?

"Umm... I'm over here, Butterbrain!"

"Well, I'm going over there!" She just kept... this... she's not actually...Butch huffed angrily.

* * *

He'd had a pretty crappy day.

First, Mojo woke them all up at the butt crack of dawn to recite some insane crap about how "today was the day that we destroy the Powerpuff Girls. Which is to say that the Powerpuff Girls will be no more today. Which means there will be no Powerpuff Girls tomorrow, despite there being Powerpuff Girls today and yesterday. That is because by the end of today, the Powerpuff Girls will be destroyed. Which means-"

It was not a pleasant thing to wake up to. It was not.

Strike 1.

So, after slugging Mojoke and flying off with his brothers to hang out, he ran into another convenient issue. They missed breakfast! The monkey was so focused on what he was saying (repeatedly) that he forgot to make breakfast! Brick demanded that _he_ find them some food.

Boomer refused on account of that whole Blue Puff (Bobble? Balloon?) jumping him and taking his place thing.

So Butch scoured this crappy town, looking for food and got food... only for Brick to complain because it was tacos. Not that it was usually an issue, they all loved tacos.

But they had been eating tacos all week and apparently he and Baby McBoomer were tired of tacos. So then he had to look again and by now, it was noon.

He hadn't eaten all day.

He'd done nothing but fly around, looking for food good enough for his royal Brickness and Lady Baby McBoomer the Third. Neither of which asked if Butch might want more tacos.

Strike 2...Hell, Strike 2 and 3

Then, he had come back after finally grabbing some burgers to see The Red Hat Wonder and Captain Dumbnuts had eaten the tacos after all and were no longer hungry!

Which resulted in Butch flipping his lid. Which led to Brick exploding and Boomer trying to calm Butch down with an offer to go get him some food this time. Because Butch didn't want burgers, but Sir Bricksfor Brains the Second wanted burgers before suddenly changing his mind about tacos.

Strike 4

Boomer adamantly tried to cool Butch back down. "Look, dude, chill. How about I go get you something this time? What do you want? Pizza? "

He loved Boomer. Boomer was the favorite. Brick can go suck it.

But, Butch is not easily appeased and the shiner on Brick's stupid face can attest to that. He flew off, angry and starving.

He ate the burgers. Screw Brick, these are his now. But he's still angry and suddenly he sees the perfect outlet.

Out of all the Powerpuffs, Buttercup is obviously his favorite. Sure, one could say it was because she was his counterpart, but Butch felt it was deeper than that. They drew to each other every time they met. Every punch was at full force, no need to hold back. No need to pretend. Just be honest.

It was like they knew each other better than their siblings. He predicted her moves, she saw through his. Fist to fist, kick to kick, they fought like two lovers who danced.

He never felt that fighting her sisters. Bubbles was too quick, Blossom took too long to think things through. They didn't get it. Fighting was a complex dance, practically. You couldn't speed through it, but you also counted lag behind. You couldn't just move willy nilly, but you couldn't overthink it.

Buttercup got that. She understood on a molecular level what it was. A true warrior was like a dancer, moving at the right times and standing still at others. They were like two massive storms. He was hurricane, crushing everyone in his wake. She was a tornado, ripping everything apart. Put them together and BOOM! Apocalypse.

So, why was she ignoring him now? When before she jumped into a fight, now she brushed him off. Butch refused to be ignored.

Ever.

With a well aimed lunge, he blasted her to the outskirts to the city before following. She landed, hard, and glowered at him. "THE HELL'S YOUR PROBLEM, RUFF?!"

"DON'T IGNORE ME, BUTTERBRAT!" he snarled, eyes glowing. "ARE YOU GONNA FIGHT ME OR WHAT!?"

"ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW!? YOU'RE BEING A BABY BECAUSE I WON'T FIGHT YOU!?"

"WHO YOU CALLIN' A BABY, PUFF?"

"YOU RUFF!" They glared at each other. "Look, today is not the day, Butch. It's been nothing but one crap basket after the next! So, listen to me when I say piss off!" Butch glared harder, but did take note of her clothes. He snorted.

She was in some frilly get up (it was now RUFFED up, though... shut up, he's funny) with a green bow in her hair.

A bow!

What is she, Blossom?

Butch's ire from earlier melted as he began cracking up, "what is that?! Is that a bow?!" Buttercup growled and crossed her arms. She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." He did. Finally, though, he caught his breath.

"Finally acting like a girl, Puff?" She flipped him off.

"It's Picture Day, moron. Blossom practically held me down before I could leave the house." Butch blinked.

Picture Day?

Oh right she was in public school. Mojo homeschooled them ("I refuse to allow my, admittedly, most successful creations to be considered idiotic. Which is to say that you will be taught in the same material as every other child in this town, including the Powerpuffs. In other words, you will be-") so he knew stuff, but thankfully they had no... Picture Day.

"Picture Day? The hell is that?" Buttercup growled.

"A stupid thing they make us do at school- that's where you go learn things, Butch-"

"Screw you."

"No. Anyway, I have to dress up like this so that we get good pictures... or so Bubbles said." Buttercup huffed, "so yeah, I got stuck with this unholy get up. Then we had a test I totally flunked and Blossom decided to remind everyone why she's called Little Miss Perfect and nagged about it."

"Ugh, she sounds like Mojo. And Brick."

"She kinda is. Oh and then when I finally yelled at her, I get detention just because I used a few 'inappropriate' words."

"You? Inappropriate words? Never." She snorted. Absentmindedly, they both sat on the ground.

"So, yeah, now I have a pissy redhaired nag machine-"

"Pfft."

"Going on and on about how I was completely out of line and how she was only trying to help and blah blah blah. And of course, the Professor pulls me aside and talks about my temper and now I can't have dessert for a week. Oh, and I missed breakfast." Butch blinked.

"Seriously? Same here." Buttercup looked at him. He did look pretty agitated. "So, Mojo decided to wake us all up before the sky was even freaking awake-"

"Okay, Anna."

"Quiet, Christoph. Anyway, and he does it in normal Insane-Mutated-Monkeynese and totally went on for at least thirty minutes about how today was the day the Powerpuff Girls are destroyed blah blah blah. So we ditched, but remembered that Mojo had apparently forgotten to make breakfast, so we're all starved. So Brick tells me to go get food because Boomer's still whiny about when Bobble-"

"Bubbles."

"Bubbles then. When Bubbles jumped him and took his place for a whole day. She was not fooling anyone, by the way, who graffitis in cursive?"

"Tch. That's Bubbles, so extra."

"SMH. Anyway, so I spend the whole morning looking for breakfast because-APPARENTLY-Lord of the Brickbutts-" chuckle-"Doesn't want tacos. Oh no, they've been eating tacos all week. No, Duke of Brickdom wants a burger."

"But tacos are life. Your brother is a loser."

"Right? So, then I go and get some burgers but I have to wait because we eat enough burgers to rival the burger bandit-"

"I thought it was the burger burglar?"

"Eh, tomato tomahto. So I'm standing there for another thirty minutes, get back, and they ate the tacos! All of them! They're not hungry anymore, though, because I took too long. So, now I haven't eaten, it's two o'clock, I've been up since six thirty. So yeah, crappy day." Buttercup groaned. "So your sister's a tool, my brother's a douchebag."

"Sounds about right. Of course, what do we expect? We're the only cool ones."

"Y'all got that right, Puff." She glared suddenly.

"But seriously, what is up with the Reds? They think just because they're the leaders that they can walk all over us." Butch crossed his arms too.

"Yeah, when we're the ones who do most of the work. Brick and Boomer combined can't even bench press what I can!"

"I lifted a mountain top! A literal mountain top! I competed against the 'strongest man' in the world and won by lifting a mountain top!"

"I once punched you all the way to Mars!"

"And I kicked you into Saturn!"

"HIM begged me to not throw another tantrum!"

"The president pleaded with me to never play tag again!" By now they were yelling about all the amazing and destructive things they do and how their siblings just didn't realize how powerful the two actually were.

Soon, they felt their energy become pent up and Buttercup, with a crazed bloodthirsty glee that rivaled Butch's, hissed, "let's fight!"

Butch roared, "HELL YEAH!" And off they shot at each other, practically splitting the ground. Loud booms and explosions abounded as Butch threw her to ground and she retaliated by punting him into the trees.

Mindlessly, blissfully, they fell into a routine. Each punch and kick was thrown with force. Each block and dodge was executed with precision. The ground became littered as these children with borderline godlike powers slammed into each other, clad in neon and forest green light. It was horrific like a Spartan battlefield, but astonishing like a Tchaikovsky ballet.

Each cut and bruise was a step, a turn.

Each abrasion, a pirouette.

Follow his lead, she'll hypnotize an audience.

Step with her, he'll capture the imagination of the crowds.

But like every dance, it ended and the two were left on the ground. Lying side by side in a crater as the clouds rolled by, ignorant of the violent ballet that had just reached completion.

Her face and body stung, her dress was torn to shreds. The stupid bow on her head had been lost in the massacre. But she felt better than ever before, even if her knuckles were bleeding.

Butch laid next to her, blissful and laid-back. Half his face was swollen and he probably had broken ribs. He probably got a concussion or two, but he was much more serene then before.

They hadn't done that before, just fought. Usually he had committed a crime and then they fought, but this time it was different. Now, there was no crime. They just let out all their pent up anger and directed it at each other. As usual, she matched his strength, but she let her own bloodlust shine through today. He loved it, really.

He glanced at her, she looked back. Buttercup looked angellic, Butch looked devilish.

So the two stayed that way, watching the clouds before, eventually passing out. An unspoken promise between them.

"I'll always dance with you."

* * *

 _"BUTTERCUP!"_

 _"WHAT DID THAT JERK DO!?"_

 **"HEY, PUFFS, BACK AWAY FROM OUR BROTHER!"**

 **"Butch, can you hear me? OW!"**

 **"He's unconscious, Stupid! He can't hear you!"**

* * *

 **I... Was honestly gonna leave this as a one shot, but... I think I can work with this.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so the people have spoken. Viva la PPG x RRB one-shots that will probably be a random collection of drabbles, prompts, and story ideas and will only be updated when I have Writer's Block. I was originally just going to keep these green centric, but... I love all the colors, I shall use all the colors. So, enjoy this one shot. It is mainly shot from Brick's perspective (sorta).**

* * *

Villain and Monsters

He saw her lying there, still and stagnent in the park. It was late, probably far past her curfew. He had been on a simple run to the store, with a harsh craving for Pringles and donuts.

She was dressed differently than usual. Gone were the conservative blouses and skirts that she wore when she graced the hallways of their school. She now sported a red hoodie with blue jeans and sneakers. The bow she donned was missing too, her hair was down and flurried around her like a cloud in the sunset sky. Her eyes were dim, weary, and exhausted. Her breathing was slow.

He should go, he thought. He didn't want to deal with her prissy attitude right now. But he didn't. Something in him needed to acknowledge her, something ingrained in him needed to speak to her.

"Little late to be out, ain't it? Does Daddy know his perfect little girl isn't in bed?" She didn't move. The girl sucked in a breath.

"Hey, Brick." What? No witty rebuttal? No comment about how he was nothing more than a delinquent who should focus on school rather than taking over Townsville? Brick blinked and floated over.

"What are you doing?" Blossom shrugged.

"Star gazing."

"At eleven o'clock at night?"

"I can't exactly do it during the day."

"I guess, but... you can do it at home." Blossom closed her eyes and a pained look flashed across her face before she opened her eyes again. They seemed even dimmer... much more depressed. Brick had no clue why... but he felt his heart jump to his throat like it was trying to choke him.

"...No... I can't..."

"You can't?"

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

"I just... I can't..." She turned her eyes back to the skies again. Brick waited for a minute, "you ever feel... smothered, Brick?"

"...Smothered?"

"Yeah...smothered...like you can never relax and... just be, you know?" He floated next to her and looked up. It was a beautiful night. The air was clear and his advanced eyes let him see clear into the cosmos.

"Sometimes, I guess... why?"

"I feel that all the time..." Blossom continued, "I just... I get this feeling and I can't breathe...I can barely move... I hate it, but I get it a lot."

"Sounds kinda like anxiety."

"Hmm... maybe..." They sat like that for a while, staring up at the expanse of celestial bodies. Brick began to think about it more.

Sometimes, he did feel smothered. The life of a known "villain" was not easy. Hell, he didn't know if he could be considered a villain. His brothers and he would go for months without committing a crime, much to Mojo and Him's annoyance. They'd rather goof off and mess around.

But try telling that to the people around them. Sure, lots of kids joked around and got in trouble. But the boys had superpowers. They could do almost anything, just like their female counterparts. Unlike the Powerpuff Girls, though, the boys didn't use their powers for the benefit of others.

That must mean they're evil, right? Anyone who doesn't use their super strength or speed to defend those around them are selfish, right? That was the reasoning of the people of Townsville.

"It sucks, you know," Blossom's voice was barely a whisper. Brick had also never heard her use those words, either. Buttercup swore like a sailor and Bubbles had slipped out a few curse words, but not Blossom. It was just a type of language used by Neanderthal minded pests, she had said... yeah, she was talking about him.

But here, she said a slightly less cultured word that he never thought would lealeave her prissy lips. She didn't look at him, "being a hero can really suck."

"Seriously...?" The town thought the sun rose and set with the Powerpuff Girls. They were everywhere! T-shirts, toy lines, magazines, movies, etc! He'd seen them on TV more than he cared to. They could do no wrong, they were the princesses of this place, the Perfect Little Girls.

Honestly, Brick was a bit jealous.

"Yeah, Brick. You're lucky you're not a hero." Brick rolled his crimson eyes.

"Yeah, it's so great being a villain. Everyone hates you or blames you even if you're several miles away." Blossom sighed.

"I don't think you're a villain." Brick stared at her. She was serious. "You don't cause nearly as much trouble as often as Mojo or even the Gangreen Gang... I mean, when you do-" she whistled lowly, "you go hard-" Brick laughed.

"Gotta go big or go home, Pinks."

She chuckled, "but you're not that bad any other day. Annoying at times, but not a villain." Brick scoffed.

"Yeah, I am."

"No, you're not."

"Pinky, are you forgetting all the times I purposely destroyed something just to either freak people out or irritate slash hurt you?"

"Brick, I literally saw you once covered in kittens and having a ball. You are not a villain."

"I thought we agreed to never speak of last summer."

"Not my fault you decided to break into the Humane Society."

"I was trying to steal a dog. A big dog. With... teeth and... growling... and masculine stuff."

"You were _covered_ in kittens and dangling string while making kissy faces."

"Okay, I get it! Stop bringing it up." Blossom laughed, a warm smile spreading across her face. The two laid like that while she turned to the sky again.

"But really, Brick, you're not a villain...if anything, sometimes it feels like Townsville's a worse villain than you..." He kept looking at her. "I've saved them more times than I can count. My entire life has been wake up, save the day, go to school, save the day, do homework, save the day, eat dinner, save the day... over and over again, I've done it... without fail...I've even ignored my own feelings and made myself some unattainable role model. It's hard acting perfect when all you want to do is freak out. My sisters and I have done more than any cop... firefighter... soldier... combined... but they can't even give me some privacy."

"...Privacy?" The repeat of that word seemed to break her as tears flooded her eyes. Internally, Brick panicked. Blossom did not cry, not in front of him. Bubbles sobbed like it was going out of style. Buttercup had been known to shed a few tears (right before she decked the offender). Blossom? Crying? In such an undignified and imperfect manner?

Never.

But now, Little Miss Perfect was letting those stupid tears roll down her perfect cheeks like it was nothing.

She choked out, "some stupid freaking reporter got a hold of my diary and tomorrow, it's going to be all over the papers. 'A rare glimpse into the inner mind and heart of Blossom Utonium, leader of the Powerpuff Girls', they said. They won't give it back or retract the issue and everyone's going to know _everything about me._ "

"But.. I... is... don't they already?"

"No," she looked at him, "I may be a superpowered one, but I'm still just a girl! I have secrets... fears... thought I don't want to share with my own family, let alone every person on the planet...but no, that doesn't matter to The Tribune. It doesn't matter that it's my diary, finders keepers basically! And... and..." she couldn't get anymore words out as she curled up into his side and cried.

Brick didn't move. He had no clue how to comfort a crying girl. He usually caused those tears, after all. Comforting was a whole new topic for him.

Brick also couldn't push her off. If it had been his diary (not that he _has_ one, the very notion), he wouldn't have asked for it back. Hell, the reporter wouldn't have made it three feet with it. Brick would have obliterated them and the newspaper... magazine... whatever they were working for. They wouldn't even have ashes left, they'd cease to exist from history. He was a villain, regardless of what Blossom said, Brick didn't do asking.

Blossom was a superhero. She followed the law, she knew that the reporter could write whatever basically. She could do no revenge, no obliteration...

Brick began to realize that maybe Blossom was right. Being a hero can suck...especially when you're just protecting monsters from other monsters.

Blossom's tears were staining his hoodie, but Brick didn't say anything. He wrapped his arms around her and held her, stroking the gorgeous copper hair she was famous for. He didn't know how long he stayed like that, but long enough for her to start to doze off.

Blossom got up, sniffling. She also had the decency to blush when she realized that she had just cried all over Brick's chest. He raised an eyebrow. "I'm so sorry."

"Eh, it's just tears. They'll wash out..." The silence was thick, like they had no clue what to say.

"Thanks for listening to me, Brick... it helped a lot."

"Don't mention it..." Brick spotted his plastic bag on the ground. Picking it up, he reached in and pulled out a chocolate donut with red frosting, still in it's plastic package and (miraculously) in tact. He tossed it to her. "Listen, Pinky. You have a right to your secrets, your thoughts, your everything. You volunteered for your job, you can just as easily quit. If you have to remind Townsville of that, no one would fault you. After all," he rubbed her head, "who's gonna try to guilt the Commander and Leader?"

She gave him a small smile, "thanks, Brick... see you at school tomorrow." Blossom hopped into the air and flew a short ways before turning, "and no skipping!"

"No promises!" He shook his head, a wry grin on his face before floating into the air and continuing on his way. He never realized how difficult it was to be Blossom, or that she had problems like he did. It must suck, not even getting the people you protect to give you some privacy.

Brick supposed in some cases, he did luck out more than her. People don't expect perfection from him. People respect _his_ things and _his_ space. How many times has Blossom covered up what she wanted for this crappy town? How many times has she gaped at the standards set for her before putting on a fake smile while her sanity cracks?

Being a superhero sucked.

Brick, absentmindedly, looked down in the direction of The Tribune Tower's, tall and gleaming, Townsville's go to source for news coverage. An idea formed in his head and Brick's trademark "bad boy" smirk grew on his face.

Being a superhero sucked, but it could get better.

Especially when one had a supervillain helping them out.

* * *

 _TRIBUNE TOWERS EDITOR-IN-CHIEF CALLS IT QUITS_

 _Friday- Earlier this morning at 8:30 AM central, Townsville's beloved news guru, Michael Snoops, called an emergency press conference to announce his early retirement. This shocking news comes shortly after strange rumors of horrified screaming and pleading was heard from The Tribune Tower. The newspaper was set to release a special exposè on our beloved superheroine, Blossom Utonium of the Powerpuff Girls (age 13). The article was promptly cancelled, wit only vague reasoning behind the cancellation._

 _"There was a large, ethic error made with the article that prevented us from printing it. This same error also made me realize that it was time for me to step back and reevaluate myself and thus, I am going into retirement early."_

Brick smirked as he read the article, bright diamond pink eyes glaring at him from across the couch in his living room. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, babe. Just made it easier for you to breathe."

* * *

 **Huge, ethical error = Brick and his flaming fists of fury.**

 **How many times you think the Puffs have to deal with overzealous fans, reporters with no boundaries, and creepy stalkers? Well, I can assure you that it probably will drop drastically. We have the greens, who have a secret buddy (love?) relationship and Butch will not have those weirdos around _his_ counterpart. And we all know Brick likes Blossom, even if he denies it. No way are they getting near her. And don't worry.**

 **Boomer's gonna show his own fangs soon enough.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, Sooooo... Uhhh... Green Maiden's next chapter will be up soon, I just gotta... Tweak a few things. But I'm working on it. Serpentine too, so enjoy this Blue One-shot. The Ruffs and Puffs are in their junior year here, so they are about 16 or so.**

* * *

The Blue in Sheep's Clothing

 _There she is,_ Josh Rodgers thought as he spotted Bubbles Utonium, the most perfect girl in Townsville.

Lots of people would contest that. She cried a lot and could be ditzy. Her sister Blossom was the "perfect" one, most said. Strong, proud, and smart. But, you see, to Josh, that wasn't a perfect girl.

A perfect girl was a girl who was dainty and modest, like Bubbles.

Not like Bell, who coveted flashy clothes and wore so much make up that Josh wasn't even sure what she really looked like.

A perfect girl liked girl things, like fashion or cooking.

She wasn't a literal She-Hulk like Buttercup, who was probably a dude.

A perfect girl let the guy in the relationship take the lead and protect/provide for her.

Not like Blossom, who was a bossy ice queen.

Bubbles was all that and more, which meant she was the only puff who was truly perfect and Josh was determined to win her over. She stood at the lockers, putting her books away as Bell stood by, chattering about something pointless.

"-So, while I appreciated the speaker's views on psychological effects the actions of Mary Tudor's father had on her, I have to argue with some points."

"I agree. Some of the points she brought up were superfluous at best and-"

"Hey, Bubbles!" Bubbles blinked and groaned internally as she saw Josh Rodgers walking up with a smirk on his face. Bell glared at the school's most annoying and chauvanistic "casanova". Josh Rodgers came from a family who were very... old fashioned in their views.

Most of the school ignored him, but unfortunately, the Utoniums did not get that joy as Josh was convinced Bubbles was his soulmate.

Despite the fact that Bubbles shows no interest in him whatsoever.

"Hey, Josh," Bubbles gave him a polite smile. He grinned back, leaning on the lockers. He towered over her by half a foot. Bell hmphed, earning his attention as he glared at the silver eyed girl.

"Bell," his voice conveyed a message for her to leave.

"Joshua." Bell did not take orders from him. An awkward silence ensued as the three stood there. Finally, Josh spoke up.

"So, whatcha talking about?"

"Oh, Bell and I were discussing the video Mrs. Halburn showed us in Medieval History. We-"

"I know, it was a total bore, right?"

"If you let Bubbles finish talking, she could have told you that we found it interesting," Bell growled, flipping her hair. Josh glared at Bell.

 _Why is she still here?_ He thought.

 _Thank God she's still here,_ Bubbles thought. It seemed, though, that fate was not on her side as a voice called out to Bell and their friend, Julie Smith, came rushing down the hall.

"Hey, Julie, what's up?"

"Bell, do you remember those special lights that we had borrowed from the Townsville Theatre Troupe?"

"Yeah, why?"

"It seems there's a problem. Princess Morebucks is demanding to use them and Mr. M can't find the paperwork saying that they're gonna be used in next week's drama."

"THE HELL SHE'S USING THOSE! I NEED THEM FOR ACT FIVE! WHERE IS THAT BRAT!?" Bell whipped out her phone as she stormed off with Julie following like a lackey, "I'll catch you in Home Room, Bubsie...BLAAAAAAAAARE!"

Bubbles stared, mouth agape as her diva sister stormed off in a hissy fit, wailing to her boyfriend about Princess Morebucks "stealing my lights and ruining my show, oh Blare Bear, she's destroying my life! What do I doooooo!?"...leaving her to deal with Josh.

Great.

She felt like throwing her own fit when Josh smirked slyly. For once, he was grateful he went to the same school as Princess Morebucks and Bell Utonium. The two divas couldn't stand one another.

Bubbles squeaked as he leaned over her, "so, listen, Bubbles...there's a great movie coming out this Friday and I scored us tickets-"

"Friday...? Sorry, but I'm busy Friday." She wasn't, but Bubbles was sure the Professor needed help doing something... anything.

Josh blinked, "seriously? I heard from Mitch that you had nothing to do Friday."

That's the last time she whines about not having something to do Friday with Mitch Mitchelson around. Bubbles wracked her brain, "uh... yeah, I remembered that...I have to wash my hair."

"..Well, I could pick you up after."

"No, no... I wash, condition, and dry... every strand... individually. So, it'll take... all weekend."

"You wash, condition, and dry every strand of hair individually?"

"Yep. Every other Friday."

"What about next Friday then?"

"I have to floss the cat's teeth." Bubbles wanted to slap herself. Why was it so hard for her to lie? The hallway wasn't deserted, but everyone was too busy in their own little world's that they barely noticed that Bubbles was frantically signalling SOS with her eyes. Josh groaned.

"Look, Bubbles, stop messing around. I'm asking you out on a date. The polite thing to do is say yes."

"Um, _excuse_ me? I'm not-"

"So, I'll swing around six o'clock Friday and-"

 ** _BANG!_**

A hand slammed over them and both glanced up to see dark blue eyes glowering at Josh. Sandy blonde hair fell in waves as classic rock played from the headset around his neck. He sported a dark blue hoodie and black, baggy jeans with white and black sneakers.

"Sup, guys?"

"Hi, Boomie!" Boomer gave Bubbles a sweet smile. Unlike Josh, Boomer was one of her best friends. They'd known each other since kindergarten and Boomer was always the more sensitive of his brothers. He liked a lot of the things she did too, from animals to video games (Bubbles was surprisingly brutal at Mortal Kombat). The two could talk about anything and hung out every day.

In fact, it was only because Boomer had hockey practice coming up that she didn't have anything to do this Friday.

Josh knew better though. Boomer was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Boomer was one of the more popular "bad boys", who got along with everyone easily. He had tons of friends and girls fell all over him. Bubbles was always squealing about her "Boomie". Josh thought he was a total tool.

The dude was always with Bubbles. He went to her art competitions, hung out with her at the mall, he stayed over at her house a couple times, and then some. He was on her FaceSpace, Chirper, Speedygram, and Rumblr. His brothers were the same with her sisters, though.

Butch and Buttercup were two sides of the same coin. They started dating almost immediately.

Brick and Blossom were Townsville High's Power Couple. Blossom dominated the Student Council while Brick ruled over the Honors Society.

Bell was Blare's princess and God help the fool who made Bell upset. (Josh never knew if he got angry at them because Bell was crying or because he had to listen to her whine.)

So Josh knew Boomer was just trying to steal "his girl". Not on his watch, though. This blonde babe was his.

Boomer shot an irritated glare at Josh. Josh Rogers was a smart, good looking dude whose biggest fault was his attitude. Most girls who crushed on him grew out of it really quickly. He thought the world stopped with him and that he deserved only the best.

Anything less was just not happening.

And he didn't take the word "no" very well.

He had been drooling after Bubbles since middle school and it was really starting to get on Boomer's nerves. At first, it was because Bubbles was his best friend.

She was always the one he could turn to when life got him down and she never laughed at him. He used to think she was just a "stupid, wimpy, lame-o" girl who was afraid of bugs and only liked dresses.

Then he got his butt handed to him in GTA (literally _his own game)_ and he was wrapped around her finger.

Then he started going to middle school and this wanker starts making his best friend uncomfortable. Literally freaking her out.

Of course he's gonna make sure Bubbles isn't alone with him when she says "Boomie, he's really pushy. I hate it," with those big, beautiful blue eyes.

At least, that's how he started purposefully getting in Josh's way and convincing his brothers to scare him off (though, her sisters may also have something to do with that.)

Now, though? Years later?

Boomer could honestly say it was jealousy. He didn't want Bubbles being with _anyone_ other than him. He wanted to hold her hand, take her on dates, the whole chimichanga ( _Mmm... chimichangas,_ Boomer thought).

So, now Josh truly had competition. Superpowered competition with years of friendship to back him up. Bubbles continued to talk, "so then Julie ran up and was all 'Princess is stealing the lights we got from the theatre troupe' and you know how Bell gets."

"Let me guess, she ran off to start a fight?"

"Yeah, so that's basically it." Josh then decided to speak up.

"Me and Bubbles were just talking about the movie we were gonna see Friday," he said in a tone that implied Boomer was a third wheel. Boomer glared.

"Really? Sounded like Bubbles was telling you that she wasn't interested in going anywhere with you." Josh sneered.

"What do you know about what she wants?"

"Well, since I've known her since kindergarten, I guess I know her a little better than you." Boomer's eyes glowed ominously as his fist clenched, "I've told you about messing with her."

"You wanna fight, Jojo?" Josh cracked his neck. He may be up against an "ex" supervillians, but there was no way he was backing down in front of Bubbles.

A soft hand grabbed Boomer's arm before he could reply. He looked down to see cotton candy blue eyes staring up at him, "Boomer, no. Come on, we need to get to Math."

Boomer grumbled, "alright, Sugar...let's go." Flipping Josh off as he wrapped an arm around Bubbles, they walked off. Boomer could feel Josh's stare on his back as Bubbles praised him for not getting into another fight.

"Really, Boom, you shouldn't let him get to you like that. Remember what Mr. Vicks said? One more fight and you'll be suspended from hockey for the whole year." Boomer nodded and gave Bubbles a mischievous grin.

"Alright, I promise not to fight him on school grounds."

"Boomer Anthony Jojo."

"No dice, huh?"

"Not a chance," Bubbles sat in her seat in a huff. She didn't like it when Boomer got into a fight, since most of the older generation of Townsville _still_ viewed the Rowdyruff Boys as "villains". Boomer was the most liked, true, but he had gotten into his own trouble before.

Boomer gave her an apologetic smile, "okay, okay, Sugar. Don't be like that. I won't start anything. I just hate it when he messes with you, is all."

"I like that you're so worried, Boomie, but I don't want you getting in trouble over me. Plus, you love hockey and I don't want you to lose this chance. You were talking about going to State this year."

"And I will. I promise I won't start anything, okay?" Boomer grinned when she finally sighed and gave him a smile, "there's my Baby Doll. Now, movies Friday?"

"Don't you have practice?"

"Bubbles, hockey starts _next_ week."

"Oooooh..."

"Unless, of course," Boomer said with a serious look as he stared at her, "you're too busy washing, conditioning, and drying each strand of hair individually." Bubbles picked up a notebook and whacked him over the head with it, a flushed look on her face. Boomer's cackle was drowned out by the bell.

"Shut up, Ruff!"

* * *

Bubbles stood in front of the concession stand with Boomer as they stared up at the menu. "Jeez, these prices are highway robbery."

"Don't worry, we got Mojo's card, so we'll be fine."

"Boomie, did you steal Mojo's credit card _again?_ "

"No, I asked... after it was in my hand."

"BOOMER."

"Sugar, he's a super villain. He encourages this. Thinks it'll turn me and my bros back to the 'glorious path of evil and away from the blinding hold of justice' or whatever." Bubbles was silent. She didn't like the idea of Boomer and his brothers becoming evil again.

Buttercup has been so happy with Butch.

Blossom and Brick are closer than ever.

Bell thought the sun rose and set with Blare.

And she has been in love with Boomer since the beginning of elementary school.

 _Now if only I could get him to ask me out properly, I'd be set,_ Bubbles thought somberly.

"...bbles? BUBBLES!"

"AHH! Yes?" Boomer stared at her, eye brow raised. "Sorry, blacked out again?"

"Yeah. I said let's just get some popcorn and sodas. I was thinking of getting dinner after anyway."

"Sounds good." The two paid for their foods and Boomer grabbed the food while she searched for their theatre. "Say, you still didn't tell me what movie we're seeing."

"Well, you _did_ say you wanted to see FrankenZombie 4: Curse of the WereMummy." Not many people realized it, but all of the Powerpuffs loved scary movies. Bubbles and Buttercup liked zombie flicks while Blossom preferred killer horrors and Bell loved the classics.

"OMG! You didn't!"

"Yep," Boomer yelped as Bubbles hugged him.

"Thank you, Boomie!"

Josh watched in shock as Bubbles led Boomer away to a theatre. He had come to see Live Free or Live Freer when he spotted Bubbles Utonium here (definitely not at her house and certainly not wet from washing, conditioning, and drying strands of her hair), standing at the concession booth with Boomer Jojo beside her.

He growled as she jumped on Boomer, squealing (did he buy her one of the fancy snacks or something?) before dragging him off. That b*d really was trying to steal Bubbles. He stole his idea of taking her to the movies.

Josh was going to sit with her and maybe even sneak in a make out session with her. Now Boomer was stealing his moves. Josh stormed after them, intent on making sure Boomer didn't have a chance.

Josh hated this movie. He couldn't really stomach zombie movies. _Jerk must have thought Bubbles would hold onto his arm if he took her to this._ Josh thought as he cringed, watching FrankenZombie gouge the eyes out of an assailant who tried to hurt Dr. Amelia Stein, his creator and love interest.

Meanwhile, several rows below, Bubbles was watching with rapt attention as was Boomer. They both loved this movie series and were currently on the edges of their seats. Bubbles leaned over to Boomer, "...I think Zombie Bride is the traitor. She's always been jealous of Dr. Stein."

"No way, it's totally Officer Igor. He's been hating on FrankenZombie since day one."

"I'm telling you," she snuck some of his whoppers.

"Stay out of my candy, Puff."

"No."

Josh glared down as the two whispered sweet nothings to each other like that weird stitched up zombie man and that doctor lady. He looked around and spotted his large, watered down, over priced coke and a devilish idea formed. Aiming carefully, he chucked his drink at Boomer.

Josh hit Bubbles.

Josh forgot how to breathe.

Boomer's jaw dropped as his friend was covered in coke.

People around them stared in shock as Bubbles shrieked and ran out. Movie forgotten, Boomer grabbed her purse and followed her to the bathroom.

Josh wondered if this is what it felt like to die.

* * *

"I *hiccup* can't believe *hiccup* someone did that!" Boomer listened from outside. Now, normally anyone would be upset someone threw coke on them. But Bubbles was three times as upset because she was wearing white.

As Bell will tell anyone, white clothes like shirts and pants and skirts turn see through once they get wet enough. So Boomer stood outside the bathroom, sans his blue plaid shirt as Bubbles dried off and put on his shirt.

"I'm sure it was an accident, Bubbles. Come on, don't cry. Please?" She finally reemerged and Boomer sucked in a breath. Though her eyes were red and puffy and her hair was wet from her running sink water over it, he couldn't help but think she was still gorgeous. She buttoned up the first few buttons of his shirt, but tied the bottom in a tight bow since she practically drowned it it. Her jeans had rolled up bottoms and she still sported her white wedges.

Bubbles sniffled, "did you stay here the whole time?"

"Course I did."

"Boomer, I didn't want you to miss the rest of the movie."

"Not a problem, Bubbles. It's going into stores next week anyway. I'll buy it and we'll watch the end together." Boomer ran his hand through his hair, "but I swear, when I find out who threw that coke, we're gonna have words. Who even does that?" Bubbles shook her head.

"Let's just go get some dinner. What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking noodl-... _HIM_..." Boomer's face turned dangerous. Bubbles looked around quickly.

"Your mom's here?"

"No... worse..." Josh came running up with paper towels.

"Bubbles, there you are!"

"...Josh?"

"I saw what happened and I've been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay?" Bubbles nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Boomer gave me his shirt and all, but I missed the-" Josh smiled.

"Don't worry, you still look amazing."

"...Huh?" Boomer rolled his eyes.

"She's upset about missing the rest of the movie. Not her make up, moron. It's waterproof." Josh raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's waterproof?"

"Look, when Bubbles says she wants to go to Sephora, I grab my card and I don't argue."

" _Right_. Anyway," Josh turned back to Bubbles, who was smiling warmly at Boomer. Josh growled, "whoever threw that cherry coke is gonna have a piece of my mind when I find them." Bubbles looked at him.

"Josh, it's fine. I'm-"

"How did you know it was Cherry coke...?" Silence ensued as Boomer's words sunk in. Josh felt the blood drain from his face as Bubbles stared at Boomer, then at him. Boomer's hard gaze remained on Josh.

"...You just said it was."

"No, I didn't."

The trio remained quiet before Bubbles gasped, "you _threw your coke on me!?_ "

"WHAT THE HELL, JOSH!?"

Josh back tracked, "it was a total accident, I swear! I wasn't aiming at you, Bubbles, really!"

"Aiming? Who were you aiming for?" A crowd had started to form as Bubbles glared up at him, with a look much better suited for Buttercup. "Were you... aiming at Boomer?"

"Yeah, Josh, were you?"Boomer's eyes turned ominously dark.

"What? Nah, I was... it was an accident?"

"I can't _believe you_! Ugh, come on, Boomie! Let's get away from this child!" Bubbles stomped off. Boomer glared at Josh before making a slicing motion across his throat. He turned and followed the furious puff.

* * *

"The absolute nerve of him, aiming his soda at you. What is he? Eleven!?" Bubbles fumed as she chomped down on her pasta. Boomer sat beside her on his couch as they watched an old rerun of I Love Lucy. Bubbles had changed into a pair of Boomer's boxers and his old jersey while Boomer just put on pajamas bottoms. She had her hair down and his favorite fuzzy socks were on her feet, "ugh...and following us in the theater! I know he didn't come to see the movie, the boy threw up when we dissected a frog in eighth grade."

"Yeah," Boomer remembered the day fondly, "good times." A light jab to the gut let him know his joke was only slightly appreciated. "Well, I mean, I could knock him out for a week. It would fix this whole problem."

"Boomer, no."

"Bubbles, yes."

"Remember, the mayor said one more time in juvie and he'll have you shipped to boarding school."

"Right, I can't go to boarding school."

"Don't."

"I'll get _board_."

"I hate you."

"You love me,"

"...I do..." Boomer's cheeks flushed as the two fell silent. The only sound was the television and Butch snoring in the other room.

"...I love you too..." They looked at each other. _Well, might as well dig myself into a bigger hole._ "I've loved you since eighth grade..." Bubbles giggled nervously.

"...I've loved you since first grade..." Boomer stared.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously." Boomer couldn't believe it. Bubbles didn't act any different towards him. She was totally normal around him. But really, was he _that_ blind? "So... "

"...Let's go out."

"Right now? Where? "

"Baby Doll, I mean let's date."

"Oh," she blushed and pouted, "I knew that... stop laughing, Ruff."

* * *

 _"It finally happened."_

 _"It's about time, you'd think they would've been the first ones."_

 _"I can't believe Bubbles and Boomer are finally dating!"_

* * *

Josh was livid. He had spent the entire weekend, planning a grandiose apology to Bubbles in hopes of earning her forgiveness. He'd bought flowers, chocolates, a stuffed teddy bear, the works. He'd practiced in front of the mirror for hours.

Then the first thing he hears on Monday is that Boomer Jojo stole his girlfriend.

That's right, Bubbles Utonium is the new girlfriend of Boomer Jojo. It's all over her FaceSpace, Chirper, Rumblr, and Speedygram.

After school, he stomped over to where the hockey team was practicing. They were currently standing in the football field, before they would head off for the ice rink. Bubbles was off with the cheer squad, discussing changes to the routine.

Boomer was going over their plays when he found him. Josh shoved him, "you JACKA-"

"HEY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOIN'?" A hockey team player pulled him off Boomer before the ruff could wail on him.

Which he looked close to doing before a light blue streak of light appeared and grabbed his arm with a "BOOMIE. NO."

"That's it, a*wipe, I'm gonna paint this field red!" Boomer struggled as Bubbles held fast.

"Boomer!"

"You f-"beep"-er! You stole my girl! Come over here and fight me!"

"When the hell was I your girl?" Bubbles was getting really tired of Josh. He never listened to her, disrespected her friends and family, and was constantly pushing on her. Unfortunately, Bubbles forgot she was supposed to be restraining Boomer and relaxed her grip as she addressed him.

Which resulted in Boomer slipping out and tackling Josh. The two rolled on the ground, Boomer slamming his fist into Josh face over and over until his nose was broken, several of his teeth were knocked loose, and he had a black eye. Josh got some hits in, but, other than a split lip, Boomer was undamaged.

Just pissed.

"BOOMER, GET OFF RIGHT NOW!" bubbles pulled him off Josh and dragged him away, stepping between the two. Josh stood up, shakily.

"See? See, Bubbles! That guy's an animal! He's a total villain and he tricked you into thinking he's a good guy and-" Bubbles whirled on him.

"Oh, don't _even f-"_ BEEP"- _king start!_ " She glared, her rage growing stronger. "ARE YOU _INSANE!_? WHAT IF I HADN'T BEEN HERE? WHAT THE HELL MADE YOU THINK PUNCHING BOOMER WAS A GOOD IDEA! I THOUGHT YOU THROWING COKE ON ME WAS BAD, BUT THAT WAS RIDICULOUS! WHAT'S YOUR F-" beep "-KING DAMAGE, JOSH!?"

Josh stared in shock as sweet, dainty, cheerful Bubbles cussed him out in a fit of anger. The cheer leading squad (Robin Snyder, Emily Reynolds, Cassandra Banks, Lily Wills, Ami Kusuguchi, and Brat Plutonium) stood behind her and Boomer, pompoms forgotten and sneers on their faces. The hockey team was around them, all looking ready to jump in when given the signal.

Boomer was staring at him like a wolf ready to pounce and finish him. "SERIOUSLY, WHAT IS UP WITH YOU!?"

"WHAT'S UP WITH ME? I'VE BEEN TRYING TO IMPRESS YOU SINCE MIDDLE SCHOOL AND THIS F-"beep "-KER STEALS YOU! OF COURSE I'M PISSED OFF! I CAN TREAT YOU SO MUCH BETTER THAN THIS TOOL!"

"THE ONLY TOOL HERE IS YOU, JOSHUA RODGERS!" Bubbles hissed, "and for the _last time,_ I don't like you! I never have! Not as a friend and definitely not as a boyfriend! You're rude, egotistical, and a total prick! You always interrupt me and you never listen to a thing I say! Hell, I bet you're not even listening now!"

Josh did have a soft smile on his face, "I can't help it, you look so cute when you're ma-"

 **WHAM!**

Josh flew through the air when Bubbles cracked her fist across his face. Boomer let out a roaring of laughter as Josh skid across the field, knocked out. Several members of the hockey team whistled while Brat yelled, "AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN!"

Bubbles whirled around, "oh, you are _not_ off the hook, Mister!"Boomer shut his mouth real quick as he gulped. Bubbles was someone to fear when angry. She stormed up to him, "what were you _thinking,_ Boomer? You're lucky that Coach Vicks isn't here, or you'd be in major trouble!"

He looked apologetic, "I'm sorry, Bubbles. I guess I lost my head when he came up like that." Cue puppy-dog eyes, "please forgive me?"

 _Stay strong,_ Bubbles thought as she fought that familiar warm feeling she got around cute things or Boomer (which was really the same thing), _stay strong for the fatherland._ "...Fine..." _Way to grow a backbone, Utonium._

Boomer perked up. Bubbles could practically see a wolf tail wagging behind him. He gave her a blinding smile, "aw, Sugar, you're the best!"

"Whatever, he was being a jerk anyway." Bubbles huffed, blowing the side fringe from her face, "you do that again, though, and I'll fight you myself." The small smile on her face said otherwise.

"Hate to break up the Rumblr worthy love fest here, but-" Brat Plutonium stood in her vice head cheerleader glory as she gestured over to the still comatose boy. "We'd better take care of that pile of shi-" take mushrooms"before Coach Vicks gets here."

"Right, someone grab his legs. There's a dumpster in the parking-"

"BOOMER."

"To the nurse then."

* * *

To Josh Rodgers and Boomer Jojo, she was the most perfect girl. She was head cheerleader. She was sweet and kind. And she was drop dead gorgeous.

She also liked zombie movies, killed at GTA, and had a mean right hook.

And if Boomer was a wolf in sheep's clothing, then Bubbles was a wolf in his pack.

* * *

 **Okay, so I love Boomer in all forms, but I see a crazy amount of him being this sugary sweet, shy guy in a lot of fics. Then I read one where he was just as much of a bad boy as his brothers and I decided that Boomer is better suited as a naughty cinnamon roll. I also came up with the head cannon that all the girls are closet horror flick groupies (they fought zombies at age five, so...) and that Bubbles likes zombie movies. Because, why not? She's hardcore.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Alright, so we are now at the Whites, mostly Blare. This one-shot is a little different than the other three because it doesn't one set time in the main character's life, instead stretching from his childhood all the way to his thirties. I had difficulty deciding if I would focus on Blare or Bell for the first one shot, but ultimately decided to go with Blare first. Bell's one shot will probably have multiple parts because it will focus on her having to deal with the repercussions of Professor X's actions and the role she had to play in them. I actually think, in ppgd, that there may be hope for Bell turning... Well, good. But that's for another time. Here, we'll focus on Blare dealing with his own guilt and finally getting his own happy ending.**

* * *

Didn't Want To

Blare was born in a land of chill and clouds. The air was often cool, the winters were usually harsh. The lab he was born in was full of people, but all saw him as a weapon.

Which, by all accounts, he was.

Blare knew he was simply the result of a recreated experiment. An answer to the emergence of superpowered children in the United States. He was the most successful to date, fully functional and cognitive. The attempts before, his predecessors, had all died before they reached two years. They were unstable, practically unusable.

He was almost six now and had proven to be the most successful result, though the two born with him had died in their beds.

Now, he was trained to be a weapon, another way to protect his country... and suppress its people. He rarely left the cold, metallic lab, only leaving to carry out missions.

Blare had ended many lives.

Blare had ended and begun many wars.

He sat in his room, a simple and bleak place with a hospital-like bed and a nailed down, Plexiglas window. His platinum blonde, almost white, hair sat tied in a short ponytail while his bangs reached to his chin. His uniform was on and his listless eyes scanned over the mission directive.

A usual mission... they believed a number of rebels were basing themselves in an orphanage on the outskirts of a small town about thirty miles from the nearest metropolis. His orders were to eradicate the entire orphanage.

 _Clack._

 _Clack._

 _Clack._

"*Project X5687. You're needed in the deployment sector to proceed to your mission location.*" A cold, monotone voice said. The man in front of him, by all accounts, was his "father". But he acted like Blare was simply a tool.

Which, Blare supposed, he was. He stood up and nodded, "*...Understood...*" The man turned away when Blare spoke again, "*Sir... this orphanage...it will be full of children and noncombatants. What is the excursion plan for them?*"

"*There is none. You are to eradicate the entire orphanage. Their deaths will be blamed on the rebel uprisings, which will put a stint on their success. Am I understood?*" Blare stayed quiet before nodded.

"*Yes, Sir... I understand...*" The man left and Blare finally dropped his stoic gaze, grey eyes growing with tears as he realized what he was ordered to do. "*...But I don't want to...*"

* * *

He sat now in a cell, blinding white and handcuffed with power canceling restraints. He was seven now and his project had spun out of control. His countrymen had, had enough of their government and their wicked ways.

The uprising had won, with the help of a covert fraction of the American government that dealt with... superpowered individuals. In all honesty, Blare had not been a major part of this fight.

He was a national asset, meant to keep the people in check.

He was a ghost, a phantom, an assassin. He rarely fought on front lines.

So, he didn't have much to count against him in this instance.

However, his record showed that he had over three hundred confirmed kills, many of which were innocents.

His life was now a big question mark.

He sat on the ground, wondering what would happen. He was scared, as Blare was just a child. He was angry, though, too.

He hated this life. He hated that he was never given a choice. He hated that he was never given a chance to do good.

He hated this...

"*It's a weapon of mass destruction and cruelty, used against the people to stunt our freedom and rights!*" A woman outside the door snarled. He flinched.

"*We should destroy it before it turns on us!*" A man responded. Blare's eyes widened and tears filled up. He was going to die.

 _I don't want to._

"*He is a _child!_ Not a _weapon!_ You cannot blame him for the actions of adults! How is a child to tell an adult that he will not do something when this is all he has known?*" Another man said, shocked. Blare whimpered. He didn't want to die.

 _I don't want to._

"*It is no child! A child is born between a man and a woman, not household ingredients and chemicals. It will probably die soon anyway, so let's end it's misery and do it now!*" Blare was now openly crying.

 _I don't want to die._

"*How can you say that? How can you look in his eyes and not see a _chi-child?_ A _scared_ child? Children act on how they are raised and he was raised a cold Hell by a monster! You cannot blame him for being born in such an uncommon way! Are you really so heartless as to damn this mere child for living a life that would break an adult?*" A woman cried out. Blare's was crying harder now. He didn't want to die.

He didn't want to kill those people.

He didn't mean to hurt people.

He didn't want to die.

"*If I may... My name is Dr. I. M. Weasel, one of the head researchers for Project Rowdyruff. I believe I have a solution to your... dilemma.*"

Blare stood awkwardly in front of the three other boys. Supposedly, they had been there when the rebels overthrew his country's government. They hadn't crossed paths, but Blare didn't question it or care.

The last few months had been Hell as his government and the American government fought over what to do with Blare. He had been interrogated, psychologically stripped of his own privacy, and basically beaten down spiritually. He'd endured harsh treatment and horrified looks from almost everyone, save Dr. Weasel.

Dr. Weasel was the first scientist in his life to give Blare any comfort. He saw, not a weapon, but a young boy. A boy who should never have gone through what he did. A boy who was not a villain, but a victim in this. Blare had drawn the shortest stick as he was created to be nothing more than a weapon, a living gun. And Blare, for all his powers and strengths, had been powerless to change it.

Thankfully, though, he knew of three other boys who had been in the same situation, once upon a time. And once Blare was officially handed over to the American government for "retraining and rehabilitation", Dr. Weasel arranged for Blare to meet his new team.

"Boys, this is Blare, the one I told you about. Blare, these are the Rowdyruff Boys. Once the paperwork goes through and all, you will be training with them and joining their team." Blare didn't want a team.

Blare had been perfectly capable of working on his own. He had been in teams a couple of times with human... associates, but they always messed it up. Blare was quick and efficient and worked best on his own.

"Sup, bro, I'm Boomer. Guess you're our new little brother, huh?" The blonde one (Boomer?) walked...floated over to him with a big dopey smile. He had bright, cobalt blue eyes and slight freckles on his cheeks. His uniform was a lot like Blare's new one, only with blue.

Wait...

Little?

"...I think we are the same age..." Boomer's grin didn't falter.

"Well, yeah, but you were born like... three years after us. So, you're totally the youngest brother now." Said "older brother" hugged him and gave him a noogie while he grunted, "don't worry, though, Big Brother Boomer will take good care of you."

"Let. Go. Now."

"Boomer's just happy that he's not the 'youngest' anymore. Try to ignore him. I'm-" The red haired, red eyed one started but was immediately cut off by the brunette.

"I'm Butch! The strongest in the team and the leader of the Rowdyruff Boys!" Butch had dark green eyes and a cocky grin that basically screamed 'I am full of crap'. He wore a matching uniform too, but in green. Blare watched as the red head from before whacked Butch on the head. Boomer rolled his eyes.

"Idiot."

"Hey! Watch it, Blondie!"

"You know what, ignore Butch too. I'm Brick, the _actual_ leader and the older brother to these two morons."

"HEY!" The aforementioned idiots whined before Blare finally flipped Boomer over and slammed him on the ground. "ACK! What gives!?"

"I said let go," Blare said, bored. Butch cheered.

"Dogpile!" The green tank of a seven year old tackled the two and, as Dr. Weasel watched with amusement, Brick was soon pulled into the session of "ruff-housing". Soon, the four boys were wrestling on the ground, bruises and cuts abound as laughter echoed throughout the room.

Blare didn't want a team, but he's cool with brothers.

* * *

Blare did not want a truce. He didn't care that they had been in an unofficial truce with the Powerpuff Girls for a year. He didn't care that he had orders from the higher ups to get along with them and that a "truce" would make things easier.

It was troublesome and one would think his brothers would agree, but no.

Nope.

Boomer was head over heels for Bubbles and Brick has been competing with that dorky redhead over Blossom since first grade. And, despite all odds, Buttercup and Butch turned into the best of buddies. So, Blare was overruled.

Whatever.

Fine, he'll agree to the stupid truce, but he will not be friends. This is strictly business. No, he doesn't want to go to the Girls' house after school and-LET GO OF MY ARM!

And thus, he was dragged to the Utonium household to do homework, eat snacks, and goof around. He sighed and joined the group in the living room. Boomer, Bubbles, and Butch were whining about their math homework while Buttercup lamented over science. Brick and Dorkster were arguing over how to interpret a book their teacher had assigned and Blossom was busy with world history.

Well, at least he can actually do his work in relative pea-

"Hey, Blare!" OH GOD NO.

Blare supposed he should have expected her. After all, she joined the Powerpuff Girls a full year before he had. She _lived_ here. So, obviously, he would run into his "counterpart".

"...Bell..." The girl stood in her diva-esque, snobby glory with hair so pristine and white that it put Mister Clean to shame. She was literally blinding him. Bell flashed him a grin and reached out from behind her back to reveal-"No."

"AWWWWWW! Come on, Blare, I stink at math! Pleeeease?"

"Ask your sister to help." Bell pouted like the brat she is.

"She's too busy making sure Brick and Dexter don't kill each other."

"That would be entertaining."

"Dark jokes aside, _pl_ _eeeease_? Professor said if I bring home another D, he'll ground me."

"And that's my problem how?"

"Come on, Blare, we're in a truce, right? Why do you still hate me?" Blare glared and began floating away from her. She followed.

"It's strictly business. I may be in a truce with you and your team, but that doesn't make us friends." Bell pouted and sat down with a huff next to him.

Finally, he had some pea-

"You don't have many friends... do you, Blare?" He jolted and glared at her. She had a mystified look on her face.

"You say that like its an issue."

"I'm just saying...you really only hang out with your brothers... don't you have any friends? Do you even know how to make friends? " Blare rolled his eyes and went back to his paper. "Oh my God, you don't know _how_ , do you?" Bell's aghast face was not necessary. Blare is very well aware that he is considered... antisocial.

Blare didn't make any effort to make friends at school. He could be found with one of his brothers or not at all, depending on his mood. He rarely spoke, he rarely participated in class, and he likes to eat on his own or with his brothers. Bell was the complete opposite of him.

She was bright and cheerful while he was dark and moody. She had a plethora of friends and admirers while people tended to avoid Blare. A few had even tried to bully him.

None left unscathed.

He focused instead on his writing and songs, Blare had found that he had a knack for instruments. He liked being alone most of the time.

Blare did not want friends.

Bell stared in shock as she realized that her counterpart really had no one outside his brothers. Sure, he was close to Dr. Weasel, but to be completely alone outside of family? Homework forgotten, Bell clenched her fist as a new determined look on her face grew.

Blare didn't like that look.

"Well, no more! From now on, Blare, I'm your new bestie!" Blare knew he didn't like that look.

"What? No."

"Oh, it's gonna be great!" She was ignoring him as he frantically shook his head, "we'll stay up late, watch movies, eat waffles, go shopping-" as she prattled on, Blare felt dread creep up from his chest.

Blare did not want a new best friend.

The next day was, thankfully, Saturday and Blare was content in staying home. Brick had left to go to the library, Boomer headed to the zoo with Dr. Weasel, and Butch was with Buttercup at the arcade. So, Blare had the entire house to himself.

 _Ahhhhhhhhh, this is bliss._ Blare flipped on the television and settled on the couch, ready for a long day of relaxa-

 ** _DING DONG_**

 ** _DING DONG_**

Blare stared at the door, mentally begging for the person behind the door to give up.

 ** _DINGDONGDINGDONGDINGDONG_**

No such luck.

With a growl, he floated over and opened the door... before promptly trying to slam it. Of course, Bell grabbed the door and shoved it open. " _Moooorning_ , Blare!"

"...What do you want now?" The quick silver girl smiled and floated into the house _uninvited._ She sported the traditional Powerpuff Girl uniform, in white obviously, and her checkerboard patterned headband.

"Well, I ran into Brick and he said you were home alone today! So I came to take you shopping!" Blare choked on air.

 _I'm gonna kill him when I see him._ Blare shook his head, "not interested. Get out." Blare did not want to shop.

Bell whined, "no way! I came _aaaaaaaaaaall_ this way, Blare! You're coming!"

"Oh yeah, it must of been _so_ hard flying seven miles when you fly at a speed of seventy miles per hour leisurely. Get out."

"Nope! You're coming, Mr. Grumpy Grump!" She grabbed his arm and began dragging him, though he struggled while shouting in Ukrainian.

"*I DON'T WANT TO GO SHOPPING, YOU CRAZY PIECE OF WHITE OUT!*"

"STOP SHOUTING IN UKRAINIAN AND COME ON!"

Bell, true to her word, took him shopping. Blare did not want to go shopping.

Blare also did not want to admit that he had fun.

For weeks, Bell would pop up in his vicinity. He purposely hid from her and she still tracked him down. Brick told him it was some kind of weird connection they all had with their counterparts... as if the chemical makeup in their bodies were drawn to each other.

But, really, come on!

He was getting really tired of looking up to a "HI, BLARE!" every other hour. Butch teased him endlessly about his new "girlfriend".

Butch also got decked, but that is neither here nor there.

Blare finally escaped to the back of the school, deciding he would just eat lunch there. Not exactly his favorite spot, but the only one the white puff hadn't followed him to-

"Hi, Blare!"

Nevermind.

Blare groaned as he turned and glared at Bell, who smiled. "Who do I have to kill to get you to leave me alone?" Bell blanched and shook her head.

"Your jokes are always so dark."

"First, not joking. Second, it's called dark humor, look it up." He plopped down to the ground and began eating his sandwich, knowing full well that Bell would not leave since she found him... and he, unfortunately, cannot outrun her. Bell sat next to him and pulled out her own food.

Silence.

Strange, she was such a chatterbox usually. Blare glanced at her, but she was just eating. This went on for almost the entirety of lunch before he spoke up. "You're quiet."

"So are you."

"Yeah, but you're never quiet. I can literally never get you to shut up." He stared at her as she sighed.

"...Well... you don't like talking to me, so I thought I'll just be quiet...maybe then you won't hate me." Blare looked down at his food. She looked so sad now.

He didn't want her to be sad.

Honestly, Bell was the only one to try so hard to befriend him. Most people stop after the first few attempts. Bell has been actively trying to befriend him for weeks now. It's gotten to the point that her own friends pull her to the side to try and convince her to give up.

He's obviously not interested.

Was he?

Blare couldn't deny that it made him feel... kinda good when Bell tried to include him... when she purposely chose him out of the crowd.

Blare came to a slow realization. He didn't hate Bell.

And he was lonely.

Blare looked at his food and spotted the vanilla cupcake in his lunch. He hated vanilla anyway. He picked it up and pushed it to the platinum blonde girl. She stared at him in shock as his cheeks flushed. "I don't hate you."

Her smile was blinding.

Blare didn't want a best friend, but he'd make an exception this time.

* * *

"Ella, calm down."

 _"Don't you tell **me** to calm down, Blare! This is, like the biggest thing to happen to us since ever!"_

"You mean bigger than when I was legally acquitted of all international charges or bigger than when you were acquitted?"

 _"Fine, smarta##, the **second** biggest thing to happen to us! I mean, the Spring Valentines Day Dance! Gowns, tuxedos, and romantic music! It's a dream come true! And it's only a few weeks away! There's so much to do! So much to plan! And I don't even have a date yet!"_

Blare perused the selection of bow ties as Bell squealed on the other line. They were now in their sophomore year and Bell had been his best friend for years now. He was more than used to her dramatics and would never ask her to change.

She was one of the most dramatic, ridiculous people he knew. A lot of people compared her to Minako Aino from Sailor Moon.

Bell was an amazing girl.

Blare was crazy about her, but he didn't want to tell her. Not when she had so many admirers who practically blew him out of the water. Like her sisters, as Bell grew older, she grew prettier.

She was like a snowflake, glimmering in the sunlight and unlike any other. Her platinum blonde hair was the stuff hair dye makers and hairstylists dreamt off. Her eyes glowed a soft silver. Her lips were soft strawberry pink and her cheeks were rosy. She had a slim figure, but amazing legs.

She drew men in like a goddess and he was one of the poor souls trapped in her web. Hell, he was so tainted by his own past that he had no hope.

Bell had a similarly tough past, he knew. She had been raised by a madman, intent on ruling the universe.

But she had struggled against him in the end. He had not. And, as far as he knew, she hadn't killed anyone.

So, as Bell lamented about not being able to choose amongst her many requests, he listened like a good friend because that's all he could hope to be. A good friend.

And Blare wasn't like those other idiots who complained about being "friendzoned", whatever that meant. He would be a friend if it meant Bell was happy. He would proudly be that shoulder for her to cry on if she got hurt, because he was her best friend. He would hang out with her and listen to her problems like he was meant to, because they were friends.

He'd be her bestie, her buddy, even if he wanted to be her boyfriend.

Blare didn't want to be just a friend, but he'll take it.

"Hey, Ella, what color was your dress again?"

 _"Pearl, why?"_

"I need to know so my bow tie can match. By the way, I'll pick you up at seven."

 _"Wait, what!? Blare Jojo, what on earth do you mean!?"_

Blare did not want her going to this stupid dance with anyone else, but him. He's not that strong.

* * *

He wasn't doing this. He absolutely was not going to do this. It was a stupid idea and this was the last time he listened to Butch or Boomer. Hell, Brick too. No more.

He wasn't a lost little boy anymore. He was almost thirty, for God's sake. He was perfectly capable of making his own decisions and no longer simply did something because everyone else in his team did it.

The first couple to do this was, surprisingly, Buttercup and Butch. Right out of high school even, the lunatics.

Oh, everyone tried to talk some sense into the two, but let's be honest.

Common sense just doesn't come in green, as his lovely girlfriend would say with a flip of her waist length hair.

The two were married that same summer before Butch was deployed to an unspecified location, brand new wifey in tow.

Next was Bubbles and Boomer, since Bubbles wanted to get married under a freaking meteor shower that only came once every fifty years and Boomer is a sap. Sure, it was cool and kinda romantic and they got amazing pictures. Plus, by then, they were twenty three...so fine.

Lastly, after a tumultuous break up that really lasted no longer than a month, _Blossom_ proposed to Brick (they will never let him live it down) and they got married while he was on deployment in Japan. Big brother is now expecting baby no. 1 and with that, everyone is in marital bliss.

Almost everyone, because Blare _did not want to get married._

Don't get him wrong. Bell was his soulmate. She took a moody, lonely, broken little boy and showed him that life had more bright moments than dark. She stuck with him through thick and thin, she held him when his nightmares took hold of him. She filled him with so much love that he could never think of anyone but her.

They'd been together (romantically) since that crazy school dance. Blare was still reeling from the confusion of seeing Butch wearing a dress when Bell had asked if they were finally going to go out on a date or was he too busy being angsty?

There was no one else. Ever. Princess had tried and failed... miserably.

No. Only Bell. Always Bell. Bell had his heart and soul and he swore with every breathe that she'd always have it, even in death.

So, that was enough. Why bother with a big show of declaring love and fidelity when it wasn't exactly needed? Wasn't it more intimate to say those vows in private? Why did there need to be witnesses? Why waste all that time and energy and money and _sanity_ on something that was nothing than a glorified skit?

Fundamentally, all weddings are the same anyway. The bride walks down the aisle, the priest or whatever talks God and rainbows and unicorns, they kiss, and it's off to get drunk at the reception.

It's ridiculous.

It's stupid.

It's psychotic.

Bell is well aware of how he feels about her and about weddings. She's come to terms with it. If she really, _really_ needs to be his wife legally, they'll go to the court and do the paperwork.

Blare did not want to have a wedding.

As he stood staring into the blinding and glittery hellhole that demanded that he sacrifice his well earned paycheck (that will, honestly, be spent by Bell anyway), Blare steeled his shoulders and turned to leave.

"Oh, no you _don't._ " A firm hand gripped his shoulder and he cast a dark look at the owner of it. Butch stood fast, green eyes glowing mischievously as Boomer chuckled from behind him. Brick, stoic despite being so obviously tired from getting at three AM to satisfy his pregnant wife's cravings, snorted. "You ain't gonna get out of this, bro."

"This is stupid and I'm not doing it."

"The hell you ain't," Boomer said. "Bubbles _knows_ Bell wants to get married and I promised I wouldn't come home until you pick out a ring."

"That sounds like a personal problem, Boom."

"Look, you love Bell. She loves you. It's only because she loves you that she hasn't started complaining about this because she knows how you feel about weddings." Brick glowered, "and Blossom said if _I_ come home without you picking a ring, she'll skin me alive. So you're going in there and picking one, or else." Blare glared.

"Or. Else. What?"

Butch grinned impishly, "let's just say," Boomer produced Blare's phone, "Bell will get a proposal. Whether or not it's actually _from_ you is a moot point." _How did they get... oh these motherf-_

"...You wouldn't."

"We would."

"I hate you three."

"You'll thank us, Mr. Eternally Running Away From Commitment." Blare gulped.

He didn't want to get married... but he did want Bell happy.

Fast forward nine months and Blare stood at the alter, all his friends and family present. He had wanted a small wedding with just family present and a nice dinner afterwards. Bell wanted a grand wedding with everyone she's ever freaking met there.

Blare wanted to do it in a month, just get it done and over with, maybe at home. Bell had laughed and scheduled the venue for nine months away.

Blare wanted things to be casual and laid-back, no fancy dress code, maybe an elegant brunch like theme. Bell wanted suit and tie, Grammy Award worthy clothing, and she had a dress shipped over from Italy.

Two totally different wants, but in the end... Bell won. Those big silver eyes could melt anyone's heart. So Blare stood in an elegant Armani suit with gold cuff links. Her sisters and three other friends clad in lavender bridesmaid gowns with their hair up in curly ponytails. His brothers and the other three groomsmen (he honestly forgot their names, Blare will remedy that later) stood in matching suits, though theirs were grey while his was black.

The venue was extravagant as they all waited in the garden for the bride to arrive. Family and friends awaited eagerly in the white, cushy chairs. Purple flower petals had been haphazardly scattered by Buttercup's three year old daughter, Blitzkrieg (Butch will never be given the okay to name a baby _**ever again** )_.

Said tiny terror sat in her own lavender gown, bored.

 _I feel you, you little imp._ Finally, after what felt like hours, the music changed and everyone turned. Blare felt the world stop. He hadn't been allowed to even see the gown on Bell.

Now, it had the full affect.

It was a slim, wedding dress with a long train. He distinctly remembered Bubbles mentioning that it was a soft trumpet style or whatever. But it was off white with intricate floral stitching and seed pearl beading. Lace covered over the top and made the sleeves too as they wove her elbows. The heart shaped neckline was dipped low, but the lace covered over her conservatively enough. She sported a silver necklace that held a sapphire pendant in the shape of a bell.

Bubbles had cute taste.

She also sported hanging silver earrings with diamond pendants that Blare recognized as Blossom's.

And the shoes she wore, silver heels with straps that zipped up on the sides. Shoes Buttercup had worn to the senior prom when Butch proposed.

 _"Something old, something new. Something borrowed, something blue,"_ Blossom's voice rang in his head.

Her hair was done in loose beach waves and she sported a chapel veil that followed behind her. The professor had misty eyes as he guided his last "daughter" down the aisle. Dr. Weasel looked equally emotional as the little boy who had been so scared and had clung onto him for so long was now finally growing up.

Blare did not want to cry at his own wedding. He _will_ not cry at his own wedding.

Butch nudged him and made a weeping motion with his eyes as he snickered.

A*hole.

The bridal march ended either too quickly or not quickly enough and, soon, Blare was staring his angel in the eyes.

Mouth open, air was not coming in.

Bell giggled and shut his mouth, causing the audience to laugh. The pastor... justice of the peace... they had agreed no pastors... began his speech about love and blah blah blah.

Nothing mattered to Blare more than this woman. This crazy, snobby brat who brought light into his world and dragged him out of his own darkness. This annoying, whiny girl who made him laugh and smile more than anyone on earth. The woman who listened to his problems, wiped away his tears, and kissed every scar on his heart.

The girl who understood him more than anyone else because she had been once trapped in such darkness and who taught him how to overcome it. His eyes filled with tears as he realized how much he loved her.

It was a love that made it hard to breathe, but he couldn't live without it. It was crazy, ridiculous, stupid, and how the _hell_ did he ever think he could go on without making her his wife in front of everyone who knew them?

Did he honestly think he could go on through life, introducing her as his girlfriend and not his _wife?_ Was he always that stupid?

Girlfriend was good and maybe for some people that was enough, but not for him. No, Bell was more than that. She was beginning and the end, she was all he really had. And Blare was an idiot to think she only needed to be his girlfriend.

"Do you, Blare Taylor Jojo, take Bell Emilia Utonium to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, or for worse, for richer, or for poorer, in sickness, and in health? With respect for her integrity and faith in your union, do you promise to unfailingly seek out the best you can in her, loving her every day, in every way, until the end of your forever? If so, please answer: I DO."

"I do..." Bell's eyes seemed to glow with a happiness he had never seen before. Blare was an idiot to think he didn't want to get married.

Blare didn't want to be an idiot like that ever again.

* * *

Blare dragged his feet up the steps to his house as the sun reached the horizon. He was finally home after a full month of being away on another mission and had just gotten out of debriefing. He opened the door to see total darkness. He cracked his neck and called out, "Ella? Are you home?"

It was a tough job, but Blare was fine with it. As a consequence of his youth, Blare was required to work for a clandestine part of the government, gathering intel and preventing wars and threats. Blare enjoyed his work some days, but others would leave him wishing for a cushy desk job somewhere.

Oh well, at least he was paid well and he had a loving wife to come home to.

Speaking of whom, where was-

"WELCOME HOME, BLARE BEAR!" A white haired woman pounced on him, squeezing him as she lamented that he was gone so long and that he missed her show. Blare smiled and kissed her head.

"I hear you were magnificent as always." Bell laughed.

"Of course, why else would I get the part of Lady Macbeth? I do nothing but act magnificent!" She spun out of his arms and pulled him away, "but enough about me! I know your tired, so I made you dinner." Blare gulped.

While Bell was leagues better than Blossom, she was decidedly lacking in culinary skills. In fact, she usually ruined anything that wasn't prepackaged and required more than five steps. Blare whimpered, "that's...great, Bell, thank you so much."

Bell rolled her eyes, "geez, Buttercup helped, you wimp." Blare let out a sigh of relief. "I'm not _that_ bad."

"Of course not, Sweetheart."

"Whatever," she pouted, "well, come and eat! It'll get cold." Blare followed her to their little dining room and saw the steaming plate of lasagna, as well as a yellow folder on his seat. He picked it up and sat down. Bell sat beside him and began chattering happily about what had happened while he was away.

Blossom had finally had baby no. 3.

Blitzkrieg had her first crush and Butch about had an aneurysm.

Bubbles and Boomer are thinking of moving back to Townsville to raise their new baby.

Dr. Weasel is talking retirement.

The professor had been given the all clear from his heart scare last month, thank God.

Brick might be deployed again soon, he won't say why.

Butch may be joining him.

"And that's about it. A lot happened this month."

"Sounds like it," Blare remembered the envelope. He reached for it and-

"Oh, and I had to go to the doctor."

Froze. The doctor? Bell? _Why_? Bell was brimming with Chemical X, which practically ate through most ailments. It was usually only a very strong strain that took her, him, or any of their siblings down. Even the new generation of Puffs and Ruffs were displaying the same attribute.

Blare gulped and grabbed her hands, looking her dead in the eyes. "Why? Are you okay? Are you sick? If your sick, why haven't you taken off work? I know acting and being a superhero is important to you, but your health is-" Bell covered his mouth.

"Blare Bear, open the envelope." He spoke despite the fact her slender finger was pressed against his lips.

"Mell, ipff yor shik-"

"Open. Envelope." To appease her so he could continue to grill her, Blare opened the envelope and slipped out a sheet of paper.

Lab results.

Lab test results.

Pregnancy test results.

Bell was pregnant.

According to this paper of doom, she was two months along. Blare thought back to the past two months... according to this, she had gotten pregnant on their fifth anniversary when she decided to visit him at HQ for a private "lunch" in his office.

Oh God, Blare was going to be a father.

 _I don't want to be a father,_ Blare thought as horror gripped his spine.

Don't get him wrong. Blare has nothing against children. Children are some of the most innocent creatures on earth, like unmolded clay.

And he loves his nieces and nephews to bits.

Brick had two sons already and now a bouncing baby girl.

Butch had three. An eight year old Blitzkrieg, a five year old Baron, and little two year old Bisca.

Boomer had his son Bryce and five month old Bridgette.

And all loved Uncle Blare, who took them to movies, stuffed them with candy, and set on their merry ways home. And of course, Auntie Bell was just so cool, acting on stage and TV and taking them shopping and spoiling them while her sisters' cry out "stop, stop!"

What was wrong with _that_ set up? It was perfect! And his brothers showed no signs of slowing down, so everyone wins. They could have all the cute and cuddly and fun times without the responsibility. Tired of child? Simply ship _back_ to parent.

Problem solved.

Mission accomplished.

They can't do _that_ with _this_ child. Why? Because _they're_ the parents and _they_ have the responsibility.

 _I can't be a dad. I don't wanna be a dad._

Blare did not want kids, Blare was perfectly happy as an uncle. And Bell had been too.

 _"I love kids, but I have a **career** ahead of me, Blare Bear. I can't slow down to be a **mommy**."_

So what changed?!

Bell waved her hand in his face, "Sweetie? Blare Bear, are you okay?"

"...baby...?"

"Yeah... I'm pregnant." Blare almost squeaked that he didn't want to be a parent, but he was not stupid. He wasn't Butch.

Blare loved Bell and he was very well aware of her temper. He was not going to say something that could possibly get him killed by his wife.

But still, a _baby!_?

Blare wasn't even sure if he was capable of being a father! The beginning of his life was filled with nothing but mental torture, agony, and guilt. There was no love, there was no compassion; he learned nothing of the sort from the man who, by all accounts, was his father. He'd spent his early developmental years in misery and depression, had done things that made grown men shiver in horror to innocent people, and had nearly been executed for it before he was even ten.

He still bore the scars. Some would never heal and sometimes, they tore open and discharged emotion puss out. He'd gone under a psychiatric microscope and been subject to evaluation after evaluation before he even reached thirteen.

He was lucky that he did an okay job as an _uncle._ How could he possibly subject a _child_ to him as a _father!_?

"Blare, breathe! You're having a panic attack, Honey, I need you to breathe!" Bell's voice pulled him back from his own abyss and he realized that, yes, air was needed.

He gasped in air and stared at her. "A... f... f... fathe...father!?"

"Blare, what's going on? What are you thinking?" Bell's voice was unusually calm and mature, totally opposite to her own childish demeanor.

Child.

Oh God, he was going to be a father.

"Bell... Ella, I can't..." His breathing was quick, "I can't...be a dad... I..."

"Why not? Tell me why not..." That was one thing he had never spoke of. Bell only knew that Blare had suffered similar things like she did. She knew nothing of the extent of his crimes, just that they existed and that they were many. She knew nothing of his father, nothing about what things he had done... nothing of the uprisings.

But after that night, Blare tearfully told her.

Every.

Single.

Thing.

That he had held back for about thirty years. He painted the picture of his home, in black tears and red blood. He sobbed out the name of every person he killed, every family he wiped out.

That night, he showed her just how steeped in blood his hands were.

And she still held them. Blare expected Bell to slip off her wedding band and walk out, but she held him... and cried... hard.

"I don't know what hurts more... the fact that you had to do those things... or the fact that you've held this inside for almost thirty years..." She looked up at him with tears still falling, "does anyone else know?"

Shaking his head, he held her tighter than he ever had. Bell sobbed.

"You were so hurt... and I didn't even know..."He cried too.

"...I couldn't tell you...I was afraid to lose you...you're the only thing that is so right about this world...but I... can't subject a child to me... I can't let something so innocent be ruined by me." She grabbed his face and kissed him.

"Listen to me," Bell said, "you're not some horrific monster. You're not a killing machine and you're not a weapon. Blare, you are the most compassionate person I have ever known. You remembered those names for almost thirty years, because you felt guilty. You knew it was wrong, but you were a _baby,_ Blare. You didn't know what to do or how to fix it. A weapon wouldn't have wanted to fix it."

She wiped his tears, "and since you came here, you've done nothing but grow stronger. You overcame your past, you gained a family, you made friends and lived your life. You upheld right against wrong and I've seen you with the kids, you love them." She took his hand and set it on her abdomen. He could feel it starting to get...different. Not hard yet and barely noticeable, but there was definitely a change. Perhaps he noticed because they'd been together for so long. "This baby going to be born and they'll look in your eyes and know that Daddy would stop the world for them. They'll know Mommy loves them more than anything and they will never go through what we did. Okay, Blare? It's not that you don't want to be a father." She kissed him again, "you just want to be the best father."

Blare didn't want to argue. Because he knew she was right.

And now, months later, Blare felt nothing but fear as the minutes ticked by. He stood beside the hospital bed, hand definitely broken, as his greater than God wife worked on pushing a person out of her.

Blare decided that he would build a time machine, find the person who first said "men were superior to women", and he would deck him in the face.

Because he was **_wrong_**. Oh so wrong!

Dr. Kliech, a very calm and patient man (judging from the fact that he didn't flinch when Bell punched Blare into the wall for "doing this to me, you emo piece of sh-"), sat in front of his spread eagle wife as she swore.

Another contraction.

For once, Blare was happy to _not_ be in that position. He made the mistake of sneaking a peek out of curiosity and woke up on the floor as Bell looked down at him, kind of worried.

Blare was told he had fainted.

Blare disagreed, he does not faint. It was... spontaneous deep meditation...yeah, his councillor suggested it.

"You're an idiot," Bell said before another contraction racked through her. The nurses flinched as Bell sonic screamed and-ohhh, there goes a window. "Blare Jojo, when I get done with you, you'll never get _it_ up _again_!"

"Yes, dear," Blare patted her forehead with a clothe. "Breathe, Ella, you need to-"

"WHAT THE _HELL_ DO YOU THINK I'M DOING HERE? SNORKELING!?" Another sonic scream. He could hear Boomer laughing in the waiting room.

He had been the last one to get the sonic screams to the face when his kids were born. Blare was gonna have _words_ with that blonde jerk when this was over, he did not _care_ if Boomer headed their Navy unit.

"OW! OH MY GOD, OW!" And his wrist is broken. Oh well, it'll heal in an hour tops.

"We have crowning," Dr. Kleich said loudly, slipping on the gloves and signalling for the nurses to get ready. "Push, Mrs. Jojo!"

"C...crowning..."

"THEY SEE THE HEAD, YOU IDIOT!"

Blare knew that, but once again, he's not Butch. He's not stupid. He was not gonna say he knew things when Bell was obviously... irate.

Bell screamed again, tears leaking out, "THIS SUCKS!"

"Just a little bit longer, Ella, you're doing amazing."

"BLAAAAA-AAAARE, YOU DID THIS TO ME!"

"I know, Baby, I know. But you're so much stronger than I am, I couldn't do this." That earned him a tired smile before it melted into another wail.

"You're doing great, keep pushing!"

"YOU LITTLE DEMON, GET OUT OF ME!" Bell sobbed and Blare gulped. Did it usually take almost seventy two hours? He really hoped this was normal. God, why didn't he research that? Bell's grip tightened on his hand, which he lost all feeling in seven hours ago.

Bell was tired.

He was tired.

He didn't want her to be in so much pain. He wanted it to end, but the only way for it to end was for this baby to come out already. What was it's problem, hurry the hell up already!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

 _"WWWWW_ _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"_ an answering scream echoed through the air as Blare watched the doctor pull up a red, squirmy watermelon-thing and oh God, that was their child.

Bell, with all the strength she could muster, lifted her head up and looked over to the tiny thing as it continued to wail and cry just like its mother. She smiled.

"Alright, Daddy, do you want to cut your daughter's cord?"

Daughter... they have a daughter. Blare has a little girl. Blare looked at Bell like a lost puppy. Bell snorted, "go... say hi to our baby."

He didn't even register when he was walking, just that suddenly he was cutting an umbilical cord...trying hard not to remember that it was still leading to Bell.

They washed the baby off, swaddled her, checked for any concerns, then handed the baby to the newly relocated parents. Blare stared down at the tiny girl, still red faced from all the screaming, but calm now that her mom held her.

Such thick, pale hair. It would be beautiful just like Mommy's. But she definitely had Daddy's eyes. She had opened them and it felt like she was peering straight into Blare's soul. The little girl, who had taken her sweet time coming, was finally here and she was the most precious thing Blare had ever seen. "We never decided on a name... what should we name her?"

They made this. They made her. They made such a perfect, sweet little angel despite all their scars and terrors. Blare had never felt such happiness, not even when he had realized that he was in love with Bell. Not even when they had gotten married had Blare felt such "Bliss."

"I like it... Bliss Samantha Jojo."

* * *

Blare had a lot of things happen to him that he didn't want. He didn't want to be forced to kill, torture, and oppress. He didn't want to almost be executed. He didn't want to join a team of rowdy boys who would later become his brothers. He didn't want to make a truce with a group of powered girls who would later become his friends. He didn't want to become best friends with his counterpart. He didn't want to fall in love with her. He didn't want to go to some stupid Valentine's Day Dance, but he definitely didn't want her to go with anyone else. He didn't want to get married, but he didn't want her to be unhappy. He didn't want to have a baby because he didn't want to corrupt it. And he certainly didn't want to have to wake up every hour because a fussy little diva named Bliss just didn't want to sleep through the night like a sane human being.

But, as Blare stood in that nursery, holding the little terror as she gurgled and cooed up at him with big, dark grey eyes and a look of innocent that she _definitely_ got from Mama, Blare realized something.

For all the things he didn't want to do, he wouldn't go back and undo them.

* * *

 **There! Now that this is finally out of my head, maybe I can finally finish Green Maiden.**

 **New Story Button - YO.**

 **Oooooh, no! Not you again! Not today!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I interrupt your usually very cute, happy, and fluffy one shots to pull you into an AU full of feels. As some of you might know, January is a... Pretty tough month for me... On the fifteenth, it will be three years since my mom died and I... I honestly am still in a lot of pain... So I thought I might write a one shot that's a little sadder. It just kinda turned into a sort of song fic at the end. It's in a totally separate universe than usual, so don't worry and I probably won't continue in this universe (but who knows what the plot bunnies demand). Mainly Red with mentions of the Blues and Greens. The whites are not in this AU, sorry. Listen to Once Upon A December from Anastasia for the full effect.**

* * *

Once Upon A December

 _Dancing bears,_

 _Painted wings,_

 _Things I almost remember,_

 _And a song someone sings,_

 _Once upon a December._

Footsteps echoed in the hallway as the young man walked with purpose. He wasn't very imposing, just a boy who had barely gotten into his twenties. If one looked at him, they'd just see someone average.

Not really standing out.

But he was far more than that. This young man was also a masked superhero who donned the name Catalyst. He had been in the superhero game for three years now. He brushed his dark brown hair back and stopped at a door, fear building up in his stomach.

Which, when he thought about it, was ridiculous.

He had no reason to fear the man behind this door. He'd trained Catalyst for two years now, changing him from a reckless vigilante to a semi-respectable hero. He was the one who was always the first to knock sense into Catalyst when he went too far and he knew he could turn to him for anything, be it advice or back up.

He had absolutely no reason to fear Brick Utonium.

But, now, he did. Because he was going to break one of the biggest rules in the superhero world. Every superhero had an unspoken rule that others abided by. No one in their right mind wants a royally pissed off superpowered person on their case, after all.

But this time it was unavoidable. Brick was in pain, it was so obvious. And he was like an older brother to Catalyst. He couldn't just watch him die inside. And after watching Brick lose it, in a way he had never seen before (and Brick, while an amazing hero, had a crazy short fuse), Catalyst knew he had to do it.

He just hoped Brick didn't kill him.

Knocking gently on the door, Brick responded roughly. "Get in here, moron." Used to Brick's "tough love", Catalyst opened the door and squinted. He didn't have as many powers as Brick did, just flight and super strength. So, he didn't have Brick's night vision (or fire breathing, super speed, indestructibilty, etc).

The warehouse turned apartment was dark. The television was on, but the sound was turned off. It was turned to a channel that had news coverage on the epic battle that took place in the metro area and the devastation that followed. There were beer bottles littering the coffee table and kitchen dining room. Catalyst glanced around.

The place was a mess. Which was strange since Brick liked his place to be organized.

Which meant Brick trashed his own place. "Well, are you just gonna stand there starin' or are you gonna get over here?"

Said man was seated on his couch, with just jeans and a black tank top on. His red eyes were tired, his hair was out of the signature ponytail, and his hat laid on the floor. Bruises, which were rapidly fading, littered his knuckles and arms. Catalyst walked over, avoiding a downed beer bottle, and sat on the opposite couch.

They sat quietly before Catalyst spoke, "dude...you okay?"

"Do I look okay?"

"Not really..." Okay, so far so good. Catalyst glanced at the television, the news still going strong over Brick's fight with that weird lobster-crab thing in thigh high boots. The thing knew Brick, seemingly better than Catalyst. Brick had freaked out over what he had said, a strange message that Catalyst knew laid buried in Brick's past.

 _"Oh, dear, how does it feel? Knowing you couldn't save her? To know that she was ripped away before you even had a chance to hold her?"_

Obviously, that creature was talking about a girl. But who? As far as Catalyst had known him, Brick hadn't dated anyone. He was strictly business. Girls loved him, but he didn't bother. Guys even tried and were put down.

So, whoever he/her/it was talking about had to have been someone from his past. And Catalyst had to ask.

Catalyst was going to ask Brick about his past.

God help him.

"Who was it talking about?" Brick blinked before glaring, his eyes glowing.

"You got balls comin' here and askin' me that. It ain't any of your business."

"Brick, you practically destroyed the metropolitan area. You completely lost it... I've never seen you lose it like that, it was like you were... possessed. We're lucky the public is blaming whatever that thing was!" Brick stayed quiet, "I'm sorry, but... I need to know why... what was it talking about...who was she...?"

The red eyed man stayed silent for a while. Then, with a defeated sigh, he started to talk. "You ever hear of the Powerpuff Girls, Cat?"

"Yeah..."

"Well... her name was Blossom Utonium and she was the leader of the Powerpuff Girls. She was one of the most perfect girls you could have ever met. Her laugh was... amazing. And she was my worst enemy when we were kids.

I was created by a crazy, mutated monkey scientist named Mojo Jojo and I had one purpose in life: to destroy the Powerpuff Girls. And for years, my brothers and I fought them..."

Catalyst's sea green eyes widened, "you were a villain..."

Brick sighed, "can't help how you're raised, kid. I'll admit, I did some things I ain't proud of, but I was only a child who didn't know any better. It wasn't until Blossom and me were older that things changed. Blossom started realizing that the world ain't black and white, but different shades of gray. She just happened to be raised in the lighter gray while I was in the darker one. I started to wonder if this was really what I wanted... if I really was nothing more than a living gun.

We got older, started talking instead of fighting. Pretty soon, I wasn't robbin' banks or beatin' people up. Blossom was still a superhero, but she'd started talking about things _she_ wanted to do and what she really thought." Brick gave him a tired smile, "I was sixteen when I told her I loved her... I was scared... what would my brothers say? What would the world say? But she didn't care... she was happy, she wanted to be with me for the rest of her life. And I guess I wasn't the only one turning a new leaf. My bro, Boomer, was gettin' into photography and he was at Bubbles Utonium's beck and call. Butch was crazy for Buttercup Utonium... hell, the sap even saved up and got her a ring. Idiot was gonna propose to her right out of school. They officially introduced us to their friends and family and... for a good long time... my life was perfect...then it wasn't."

"What happened...?"

"Hell happened... it was a normal thing... Blossom and her sisters got a call that Townsville was in trouble. That thing we fought, they called it HIM. I call it Mom."

"That's your... but... I thought it was a guy!"

"It is and it isn't and no, I don't really get it either."

"Oh..."

"Yeah, well, HIM wasn't too thrilled on my relationship but had never really done anything about it. So, she goes with her sisters to fight it and... walks into the biggest trap of the century... I didn't even know, until it was too late..." Catalyst watched as one of the strongest men he knew nearly broke down. Tears were streaming as Brick relived the nightmare that took away the love of his life. "I tried to save her... I flew so fast... I prayed... but I didn't make it... by the time I got there, she was... dying... her sisters were long gone... I've never heard Butch scream like that...Boomer hasn't been the same..."

Catalyst had only met Brick's brothers a few times. Butch stuck to Detroit, running a mechanic shop during the day while also busting up bad guys. Boomer was a floater, who took world famous photos and helped solve cases for police. Boomer had always been a cheery guy, but, looking back, there was always a deep sadness in his eyes. And Butch? The man was cool, but there were points where he'd seem to drift away in his thoughts.

They had lost the loves of their lives when they were sixteen? How does one even get through that? Brick continued, "I held her... I begged her to keep fighting...to hold on...she... she couldn't...it was too late... Blossom begged me to protect the people. She begged me to complete what was, essentially, her life's purpose... she begged me to...fight for her..." Brick sucked in a breath.

"Brick... I... I never..."

"You don't know what it's like to lose, kid. To _really_ lose. I went after that monster and I slammed him back into that same hellhole he came from, people cheered my name for months, my brothers and I were called true heroes...but I still lost everything." Brick stared at him with vacant eyes, "I lost my _everything_. I really turned my life around after that... changed my last name to hers... and protected the world in her place...because she was my everything...and I lost her."

"...You didn't lose her, Brick... HIM took her."

"She's still gone, Cat. I can't hold her, I can't kiss her, and I can't hear her! And I wake up every day, hoping it was all a bad dream, but it wasn't!" Brick was suddenly in his face, eyes glowing sinisterly. "She's still six feet under! If I'd gone with her it would have been different! I knew exactly how HIM thinks! I could have stopped her or at least... I could have died with her!"

"Dude, do you think she would have wanted th-"

"YOU DON'T GET IT, DO YOU!?" His voice roared through the air, causing the television screen to crack and spark. Windows cracked as well. The temperature rose in the room as Catalyst was shown a side of Brick he had just learned about.

A side that screamed villainous rage and agony. A side that clawed at one's heart, shrieking at them to cause the world the same pain that they feel.

"YOU DON'T HAVE ANY IDEA HOW IT FEELS, TO WATCH THE ONE PERSON WHO WAS CREATED TO DO GOOD DIE IN YOUR ARMS WHEN YOU'RE THE ONE WAS MADE FOR NOTHING MORE THAN TO BE EVIL!" The temperature was getting higher. "OR WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE THE ONE GIRL...the only girl... in the world... that believed you were more... that was willing to forget what you've done...and start a life with you... to bring... something..." The temperature slowly dropped as Brick crumbled to the floor, sobbing. Catalyst could finally breathe comfortably, but he could feel his heart in his throat.

People say one of the saddest things to watch is a man cry. Not those single tears, but heartwrenching sobs. They sound like pure, unadulterated agony. They speak of a man truly broken, who no longer cares about looking masculine and upholding such frail pride... and now only begs for support.

Brick was one of the toughest men Catalyst had ever known, often looking into the abyss with a sneer and an insult. Now he sat on the floor, sobbing his eyes out. "Days later... I went into her room... I found a card she had been writin'... with our anniversary gift right next to it...telling me how happy she was...and that I was gonna be a father..."

Catalyst now understood why Brick's rule was to never ask about his past.

Brick was in pain, it was so obvious. But, he was also like an older brother to Catalyst.

And there was nothing he could do to help him.

 _Far away,_

 _Long ago,_

 _Glowing dim as an ember,_

 _Things my heart used to know,_

 _Things it yearns to remember_

 _And a song someone sings_

 _Once upon a December_


	6. Chapter 6

**I interrupt the previous and very depressing AU to pull you back into our Beautiful Disasters AU. I'm planning on doing a series of AUs where the girls go through that weird time where their bodies are changing (we all know middle school sucked. I can still smell the hormones and Axe body spray). The first is dedicated to our favorite greens, since this whole thing started with them.** **Also, I like the idea that each girl grows into a different body shape, despite being siblings (I look vastly different than my sister, after all). So here's Buttercup's headcannon:** **She's a thick bottom girl when she gets older.** **Also enjoy Butch learning about periods.**

* * *

Becoming A Woman

The first time Butch realized Buttercup was becoming a woman was when they were eleven years old.

Ever since that fateful day where they met up and spared like two gods, the two greens had formed a sort of secret friendship of sorts. Oh, sure, Butch would still commit crimes and Buttercup would still tear him a new one.

But every week would find the two at the same spot in the woods, sparring and hanging out in a way that they just couldn't with their siblings. Buttercup would sometimes bring snacks for the brutal boy and Butch always had something fun to do if they weren't up for bashing each others' brains out.

That same place found the two today as they rough housed in the only real way they knew. Butch landed a solid right in Buttercup's abdomen, which sent her flying through the trees. Speeding towards her with a sadistic grin, he was about to finish his assault when-

"TIME OUT!"

Time out? Since when did they call time outs? They usually didn't stop until one of them was too dazed to form coherent words.

Butch skidded to a stop as Buttercup stood, shakily. Looking deathly pale and green coloring her cheeks as she ran to a bush and upchucked everything. "Ugh, gnarly." Butch walked over, a smug look on his face. "Dude, ya never puked when I hit ya before. That's awesome!"

"Urp...glad you think so... urgh..." She really was not looking good. Buttercup sank to her knees and threw up more, enough to finally make Butch realize that his only girl friend might be really sick.

The green ruff gathered her hair, which was starting to reach her shoulders (much to her irritation), and held it back. He and Boomer had done the same for Brick when he caught a seriously strong strain of swine flu a few years back. Finally, she was dry heaving. "Breathe, Butters, easy." Once it was all out, the green puff moaned and fell backwards, looking slightly better. "Dude, you okay? You look... like you're dying."

"Gee, thanks, man."

"Buttercup."

"I'm fine, Butch, really. Just gotta take a rain check on this fight. Let's just say you won, okay?" Let's just say he...? Buttercup? _Forfeiting_ a _fight_?

What kind of crazy parallel universe had he entered!? Next thing you know, the girls will be fighting over some weird kid named _Jared_.

Butch grabbed her shoulders, earning a -"HANDS OFF THE MERCHANDISE, PAL!"-and looked deep into this imposter's eyes. "Who are you," he hissed, "and what have you done with my best friend?"

"Butch, chill."

"Stop trying to make Butch and chill happen! It won't happen!"

"The Mean Girls reference was unnecessary, Ruff."

"Stop distracting me. What is wrong with you?" In another very un-Buttercup like fashion, she blushed. Butch didn't know how to handle this. First she forfeits a fight, now she acts like a girl and blushes and looks cute doing it!?

This was not like her. Buttercup is cool, like him. She once out belched him. She could arm wrestle like a champ. She doesn't even care if he farts on her, laughing about it before doing the same to him. She wrestles in the mud, once she found a dead frog and kept it! She was basically one of the guys.

Buttercup, his secret best bud, does not blush like a girl!

"Ugh... I'm on..." The end of the sentence was muttered something lowly that Butch, even with super hearing, didn't catch it.

"What...?"

"...iod..."

"Huh?" Buttercup then screamed in frustration. Finally! Now she's acting normal. Maybe this was just a fluke. Yeah, after all, everyone has their mome-

"I'm on my period, you idiot!"

The hell is that?

Butch stared at her blankly, trying to process what it could mean. Butch vaguely could remember Mojo describing periods or whatever.

 _"A period, my honorary sons, which is to say sons that are considered mine despite us not sharing DNA, which is to say you are not my sons biologically, but you are my creations, which by right make you my children, despite not sharing the same DNA as mine, but you are still my sons since I, MOJO JOJO, created you, just not in the conventional way that children are created, between a male and a female of the same species, but in the most unconventional way, using a radioactive toiletry reciprocal, the extended spinal bone of a canine, body hair from a fellow inmate, and imported French snails served to me by Chef Jailbirde in a penitentiary, which I was placed in my those accursed Powerpuff Girls, who, regrettably, were also created in a rather unconventional way by the lesser minded man, Professor John Utonium, with basic household necessities in his ridiculous excuse for a laboratory-"_

 _"GET ON WITH IT!"_

 _"Right, you are correct, Brick, my brightest of my honorary, non-biological sons, that we should continue. A period is a writing increment used to mark the end of a string of words used to form a sentence. That is to say it is the completion of a string of words used to convey a thought, a feeling, an idea, a description, and further more is an indication that the previous thought, feeling, idea, description, and further more have come to an adequate completion as ordained by the author that is to say the one who-"_

It's no wonder Brick is demanding that they go to public school. All Butch got from that was that periods had to do with writing. So, what is she even talking about?

Buttercup stared at her friend's vacant look and it suddenly clicked. She groaned, "you don't know what a period is, do you?"

"It's like... a writing thing, ain't it?"

"Well... yeah, but it's also...I can't believe I have to explain this...ugh... it's also what girls use to say when... you know what...follow me..." And that's also how Butch met Ms. Keane, Buttercup's old kindergarten teacher.

Ms. Keane wasn't too bad. She had some greying hairs from age, but other than that was relatively unchanged. She sat them both down as Buttercup explained what had happened. "C... can you explain it to him, Ms. Keane? I just... I don't..." Ms. Keane gave Buttercup a kind smile and a pat on her hand.

Butch watched in confusion as his friend looked more and more uncomfortable.

"Buttercup, it's perfectly normal for you to feel this way. A lot of girls do when they first start getting their periods. And Butch, I'm sure you're confused, so I'll explain it the best way I can. First, tell me, do you know where babies come from?"

"...Actually, no..." It was then that Butch learned something that has horrified and confused children for generations. Basically, an internal organ that he had no clue even existed was tearing apart its lining because Buttercup had not gotten pregnant and she was bleeding out a hole Butch didn't even know she had! And the only way to deal with this natural Satanic ritual was to either wear a liner in her underwear or shove some weird cotton tube of horror up said hole... and she was expected to go about life as normal. And all girls went through this!

Needless to say, Butch was horrified. Butch was freaking out. "H... how do we stop this!?"

"Butch, sweetie, you can't. Every girl has to go through this at some point."

"It's killing her!"

"No, dear it's not."

"It sure feels like it, though."

"I know it does, Buttercup."

"We need to do something! _SHE CAN'T LOSE THAT MUCH BLOOD ECERY MONTH, SHE'LL DIE_!"

"Butch, honey, only a small. amount is actually blood." Okay, a small amount. Butch could deal with a small amount.

"But... you said she has to put... that thing in to catch it...what else is..."

"...Mucus, blood, small parts of the lining in her uterus..."

"Oh My GOD!" Butch learned that his best friend was becoming a woman that day.

He didn't know how to handle it.

* * *

The second time Butch began to realize his best friend was becoming a woman was when they were thirteen years old. By now the Rowdyruffs and Powerpuffs had shared two major events together.

1\. The Rowdyruff Boys and Powerpuff Girls had officially called a truce and were now allies.

2\. Bell had joined the Powerpuff Girls and Blare had joined the Rowdyruff Boys.

Life was good. He and his brothers were being trained as agents for the government, used to neutralize threats to humanity. The girls were continuously protecting the home front. Life was nothing but laughs and random sleepovers (courtesy of Bell and Bubbles).

Then middle school began. Boomer was the first, surprisingly, to hit puberty when his voice began cracking. Even his sonic screams were off. But soon, all of them were going through awkward stages. It was only by the grace of God that the Chemical X in their DNA prevented things like pimples.

Brick was the first to get taller.

Blare became a bottomless pit.

Butch slept more than he breathed.

And the girls? Growing pains. Bubbles began developing early, jumping from an A cup to a C cup and then finally a D cup.

Bell got taller, most of her height went to her legs.

Blossom got a little chunkier, much to her dismay, but quickly shaped until her body rivaled that of a vintage pin up model.

And Buttercup?

She didn't grow past a B cup (ironically), but she was thick bottomed.

It was the beginning of summer vacation. School had let out days earlier and Butch was headed to their house to see if Buttercup was up for a game of tackle football when he spotted a group of older guys, from the high school further up, all huddling out of a beat up pick up truck, whistling and hollering at something across the street.

Now, Butch was no longer a little boy. He had become very much aware that girls were made of sugar, spice, and everything nice (if you caught his drift). He was no longer abhorrent to kissing girls. But, following the guys' line of vision, he saw something that made his throat dry up.

There was Buttercup, helping Bubbles with her chores by washing the car. Totally normal, she couldn't always do all the work.

Except...

 _Since when was Buttercup... hot?!_ Butch thought in rising shock.

There stood his best friend, clad in a green plaid button down shirt, tied at the bottom with a tight bow ththat showed off her toned stomach, and Daisy Duke shorts that showed off her...It was a butt preordained by history. Firm, toned, a Renaissance butt. It was held with pride by two strong, tan legs, dipping a curving with perfect execution. A butt after his own hear-

 _OH MY GOD._ This was not supposed to happen. This is his best friend! They'd had sleepovers together! Video game marathons! They played sports together! They'd fought side by side together! She's supposed to be his pal, his partner in crime, his bro!

Not a hot chick, cleaning her dad's car in a damp shirt while some Neanderthals hooted at her like howler monkeys because she had a butt that looked like it was shaped by Zeus!

(Brick will be proud of him for thinking that up.)

She spotted him, gaping at her on the side walk. Flashing him a smile, she shouted "YO, Psycho! What's up?"

"...I... ugh.. not me."

"Uh, yeah, I could tell."

"Well, I'm up, Sweetheart! How 'bout you help me back down?" Oh God, was that a pick up line? It was horrible. Buttercup flipped the offender off before turning back to Butch.

"Uh, earth to Butch? You cool?"

"What... Yes! Yeah, I'm cool." She raised a charcoal eyebrow and shrugged.

"So, what's up? Didja need something?"

"...I was gonna see if you could... come play football..." He glanced at the car. "If you're not busy."

"Yeah, I'm just about done. Gimme a minute," in a flash of pine green, she had the car washed, dried, and waxed. The idiots across of street whined when she headed in ( _bad Butch, do not stare at those hips_ ) to change into jeans and a t-shirt.

Butch turned around and glared at them, earning a glare back. One of the bigger ones, probably a jock or something, got out and strutted towards him. Butch currently only reached his chest, but Butch had fought bigger and won.

This dude did not know who he was messing with.

"Listen, kid, beat it. Me and my boys here are gonna hit up that fine piece of a-" beep "in there and, maybe one of her hot sisters, and you're in the way. So, if you know what's good for you, you'll get out of here before I kick your a-" beep.

Butch rolled his eyes, "what are you guys, _new_? You couldn't take me if you had the army backing you up." His eyes glowed sinisterly, "let me be clear: leave her and her sisters alone or I'll crush your f-" beep "king skulls."

The jock sneered and cracked his knuckles. Well, some had to learn lessons the hard way.

* * *

When Buttercup came out, she came to see the group of obnoxious teenagers racing off in their pick up truck, which looked way more torn apart than it did fifteen minutes ago. The boys also looked torn apart, with the largest one nursing a humongous lump on his head, an arm that was bent the wrong way, a broken nose, and an astonishingly large amount of missing teeth.

As the truck burned rubber down the street, Butch stood nonchalantly... Buttercup was immediately suspicious.

She may be his best friend, but she knew when he was up to something. Butch was no angel. "What did you do?"

"What? Nothing, just stood here."

"...Uh Huh... why'd they look like they'd seen Him in skin tight leather underwear?"

"First, thanks for that. Second, no clue. Let's go play football... loser buys the winner all they can eat tacos." Suspicion forgotten, Buttercup whooped and dragged Butch to the park as he stared at her from behind.

Butch was thirteen years old when he realized Buttercup was becoming a woman.

It would be one more year before he realized that he loved her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Welcome to another installation of Beautiful Disasters! Good news, Green Maiden's next chapter is 25% done. Serpentine is...to be determined.** **Now watch as our favorite drama queen of a white puff battles one of the most difficult things when it comes to female body positivity: Bra Size! (also watch Blare and the PPG become #DONE with Bell's drama)**

* * *

When You Got It

 _Ven you got it, flaunt it_

 _Step right up and strut your stuff_

 _People tell you modesty's a wirtue_

 _But in the theatre modesty can hurt you_

It was not an uncommon thing to think the Utoniums were a family that fortune seemed to shine on, from an outsider's perspective. The girls had power most couldn't even dream of, wills of solid iron, and beauty that was downright unfair.

But, like everyone, the girls had their fair share of insecurities. Bell was no exception to this fact.

Now, when most spoke to Bell, she came off like a starlet. Bright, charming, and confident in herself. Bell walked around like she was Aphrodite and, no offense to the ancient deity of love, she might as well of been.

Her long, silver hair was etheral in its beauty, almost rivaling Blossom's own copper locks.

Her face was like a porcelain doll, smooth and elegant with silver eyes encircled with dark grey lashes and pale pink lips set in a permanent pout.

She had long smooth legs and nice hips that were accustomed to strutting down streets, hallways, and stages.

And she dressed like she was modeling for foreign magazines every day.

So, what does such a girl, one who lived and _breathed_ fabulous, have to be insecure about?

Bell stared morosely at her chest as she, for the umpteenth time today, lamented over her misfortune. Because she, the only one of her family and posse, was the only one who was a 32A Cup.

It was _mortifying_ , being the sister with the smallest boobs.

Bubbles outgrew all of them, at an astonishing 34DD. "It's not that great," Bubbles would console her, "I mean, I get major boob sweat and my back sometimes hurts. Plus, I can never get guys to stop perving on me." But she looks great in bikinis, tank tops, crop tops, etc.

Coming to a close second was Blossom at 32D. "Bell, your boob's are perfect for your body type. Don't worry about it," says the girl who looks like a thick teen version of Jessica Rabbit, filling out her pencil skirts and blouses like everyone's wet dream.

Traitor.

And then Buttercup slides in at a 32B, though Bell can still borrow her bras for whatever reason. "You wanna trade? It's annoying not really being able to wear sports bras."

So, Bell was dead last with a chest akin to a washboard. Oh, woe is her life. She'll be doomed to a life of misery and regret if she doesn't grow more soon! She'll have to change her name and live as a lonely old maid in a small, distant cabin. She'll watch the world move on without her as-

"-Ella? BELL." Blare's sharp tone shook Bell out of her thoughts as she focused on where she was.

Right... school. Why was Blare staring at her again? He raised one of his cute, grey eyebrows as he nodded to the front where her math teacher, Mr. Issac, glared at her.

"Uhhh... yeah?"

"Thank you for rejoining us, Ms. Utonium. If you're done communicating with the spirits, maybe you'll answer problem thirteen." The class snickered as Princess smirked over at Bell. She glared at the pompous, pom-pom haired brat before turning to her teacher.

"The answer's-"

"Seventy-five, Mr. Isaac!" That little! Bell hissed.

"I was gonna say that, you walking example of a bad hair day."

"Yeah, well, you were taking way too long, Whitescreen. Ugh, I'd be, like, seventy-five by the time you answered."

"Well, at least you'd finally look your age!" Before the two divas could throw hands, Mr. Isaac threw his up in the air.

"Girls! I thought we agreed no more arguing in class!"

"She started it, though!" And thus, a Bell Rant ensued. Blare rolled his eyes at his girlfriend's antics as she disrupted class again. "I was just sitting in my chair, trying to fully absorb and meditate on the lesson so that I can further my education and the one time I was called on to participate-"

"I called on you three times. Blare answered each time."

"-Princess rudely and harshly snubbed me from my chance to provide insight into my understanding on this material! Oh, no! I'll never truly understand mathematics now! I won't graduate and I'll be forced to drop out and work tirelessly in a back breaking, bone withering menial job, struggling to make ends meet as I continuously try to support my family, who only have the one roof above their heads and barely any food. I'll wither away as I give my small, mediocre portions to my children-"

"What children!?" Blare and Mr. Isaac were now lost. But that's normal when dealing with Bell.

"Growing weaker and sicklier by the day, trudging through the snow, ice, and _sleet_ to job after job, giving away my body, mind, and _soul_ to provide before one day _-ONE DAY-_ I collapse in sheer agony from starvation and fatigue in the frosty blizzards of Siberia-"

"Okay, _what?_ "

"I think we lost her."

"-and as I lay dying a slow, frigid death, thinking of my poor sick babies who will have no one now, I'll whisper... why...God, why did Princess have to be such a slag and interrupt me in class! And so, my tragic and morose life ends with Princess's selfish actions as the last thoughts on my mind!"

The entire class stared at her for a good five minutes before cracking up. "Oh my God, Bell, you're such a diva," Julie cackled from behind her. Mr. Isaac sank in his chair, face buried in his hands as he contemplated quitting.

Blare sighed. Same old Bell.

Princess scoffed, "drama queen."

Bell huffed, "peon."

Finally, the final bell rang and, as per usual, the student populace gathered their things and hurried out to their extra curricular activities or cars with a cheer over being free of school. Bell swiped her bag and turned to speak to Blare before growling.

Now, Bell and Blare had only been dating for six months by now. Both, though, were quickly rising in popularity with Blare being an amazing singer and mysterious and Bell being the new "queen" of the theatre troupe.

Blare, like his brothers, had a lot of the female student body interested in him. Bell couldn't blame them, Blare really was cool. He almost never yelled, he was always calm, and he was smart. He could also be really charming, he just chose not to be.

And he looked _good_ in the signature Rowdyruff Boy leather jacket. Real good.

Usually, Bell felt no threat to their relationship. After all, she was _Bell Utonium._ She's had guys chasing after her since she was five. She won beauty pageants, she was funny, she was cool, and she was smart too.

So what if she could come off as conceited? She knew her worth, is all.

Well, there were two girls Bell felt were trouble.

Missie Angelo and Princess Morebucks.

Both of which were latching onto _her boyfriend_ like the bloodsucking, STD inducing leeches they were.

"Hey, Blaaaa-aare, I wanted to ask you something," Missie Angelo was a fake little tramp who wore tight, last season miniskirts and low cut tops. She shoved those equally fake DD boob's in anyone's face and couldn't keep her legs closed if they were stapled shut (per Bell).

Blare looked at her, eyebrow raised.

 _No, Blare Bear, don't listen to Lady Thunder McFakeTits!_ Bell was now seething as the tramp rubbed her cheap, silicon balloons all over his arm.

 _Gotcha,_ Missie thought. _I bet he's so into me right now. Ha, you stupid piece of white out._

 _I wonder what's gonna be on TV later..._ Blare thought blankly. _Butch better not start watching Game of Crowns without me._

"So, I was gonna go see a movie tonight, but I can't find anyone to go with me...I get lonely easy, will you come with me?" Blare blinked and remembered that he was now required by the Law of Bell to speak immediately.

"I don't do movies." Which was a lie. Blare liked movies, but he was _not_ sitting through another romantic comedy. Bell was enough.

"Oh...dinner then?"

"Busy."

"Maybe we could-"

"Ugh, you skanky, get your claws away fr-"

"Can't you see he's not interested, Miss Silicone Valley? But, Blarikins, maybe we could hang out tonight? Hmm?" And there was skanky number two, Princess B*tchbucks. She was always after one of the Jojos. Last year, she was dead set on Butch being her soulmate.

That ended, though, when Butch asked Buttercup out and she decided that she liked her face the way it was.

Pity, a black eyes is just what she needs.

"Can't," Blare quipped, getting his bag. "I'm taking Bell to dinner."

"Ugh, still?"

"We have a date tonight?" Bell had planned all their dates so far. Blare just showed up. It usually wasn't a problem, but this was surprising.

Blare smiled at her, not a smirk, not a sneer. A real genuine smile that made Bell think of puppies frolicking in snow for the first time. "Surprise. See you at seven, Ella." With that, Blare left to head home.

 _Great, now to deal with these two hoes._ Bell snarled as the three of them got in each other's faces. "Listen, you STD spreading monkeys, keep your paws off my man!"

"Ugh, he might be yours now," Missie huffed, "but he's totally into me. Blare'll be mine by the end of the week." Princess laughed.

"You? Uh, he's got super enhanced senses. He'll smell that cheap silicone and barf." Princess fluffed her hair, "Blare likes _real_ women. So, I've got him in the bag."

"I thought you said he likes _real_ women," Bell snorted, "you, Princess, are about as real as Kim Kardashian's butt."

"Well, at least I'm not as flat as an ironing board!"

"Yeah," Missie scoffed, "I had more boob when I was nine."

"Adding silicone doesn't count."

"You might wanna look into it, though, Flatland." Bell flipped her hair and looked down her nose at the two.

"Ugh, don't forget who beat you two and even Bubbles out of the Miss 16 California contest. I don't need your fat chests to look good or to keep _my boyfriend_. Last warning, mitts off." She stomped away, hair flipping in both their faces as her brain rang with their words.

 _Ironing board... flatland..._ Bell was a fabulous girl, but she needed fabulous boobs to match.

* * *

That night, Blare picked her up and took her to the new curry restaurant on the other side of town. Bell morosely stirred her super spicy curry as Blare watched.

She was quiet.

She was only quiet when she was really, really upset.

Bell was upset.

Blare hated it when his girlfriend was upset. "Ella, what happened?"

"...Nothing..."

"Бульбашка." (Bull crap)

"It's the truth, though."

"Bell."

"Really, it-"

"Bell."

"Blare, I prom-"

"Bell."

"Do you like Missie Angelo?" Her shout resognated through the restaurant and several heads turned in their direction. Bell felt her face heat up as she sat back down. Blare shook his head, a slight amused smile on his face.

She was way too easy to crack.

"Why would you think that?"

"Well... she was all... all rubbing her boobs all over you today and..."

"No, I do not like her. She is way too clingy."

"...People tell me that I'm clingy..."

"It... it is cute when it's you..." Blare looked out of the corner of his eye while Bell giggled.

"What about Princess? She was all over you too."

"Last year she was all over Butch. The year before, Boomer. And before that, it was Brick." Blare drank his soda, "I am no one's rebound."

"So, you think I'm prettier than them?"

"Definitely. You're out of their... what was the word for ліга?"

"League, babe."

"Right. You're out of their league." Bell smiled gratefully at him. Most didn't get to see Blare like this, shy and sweet as he stumbled through idiocies and the still ever present language barrier.

They only saw the cool and aloof gray Rowdyruff Boy who was rumored to have been an assasin before joining the Rowdyruff Boys and learning how to play rock and roll. They never saw the Blare who liked small dogs, hot cocoa, and spicy curry who still had horrific nightmares from his past...a past Bell didn't even _know_ about.

A Blare who didn't talk much, not just because he didn't feel the need to, but also because he hates messing up his English.

Missie and Princess didn't know that. All those two bimbos saw was a hot super powered punk rocker.

 _But still_ , Bell thought, _Blare's a boy...boys like boobs._ Bell had to do something or she's gonna lose her Blare Bear.

* * *

The next weekend, Bell dragged her sisters into Bras and Beyond. Blossom groaned as Bell tried on push up bra after push up bra...padded after padded.

"Bell, that's too much, it makes you look top heavy."

"Geez, do you _see_ the price on this? Professor will have an aneurysm if he sees it on your credit card."

"No, just no."

"That one's cute."

"Yeah, but it feels like I'm wearing barbed wire."

* * *

Blare stared at Bell. She had been acting weird all week...Actually, she and those other two were acting weird.

Those other two being Missie and Princess.

Those two kept commenting on things that would probably make Him blush and wearing tops that might as well have been invisible. Plus, they would _not leave him alone_.

"Yeah, well, it was only a matter of time before Princess tried to get you, bro." Boomer shrugged, "think of it as a rite of passage."

"Yeah, well, I have two versions of Princess after me." Bell had been acting weird and was constantly uncomfortable. Plus, she looked...different.

Blare couldn't put a finger on it. Every time he tried to bring it up, Bell changed the subject. And what was with her rubbing her chest against his arm all the time? Blare had no issue with Bell being in his space, but this was ridiculous.

He has limits.

And thus, history repeated itself as Blare began hiding and Bell had to search him out.

"HE HATES MEEEEEEE," Bell wailed one night after Blare finally snapped at her. Bubbles handed her another box of tissues as the white puff sobbed on her bed. Blossom sat beside her, patting her back as she read her latest novel.

"Dude, maybe you should try easing up a little," Buttercup suggested, not taking her eyes off Bubbles' TV. "You know Blare hates being crowded on."

"B...but I just wanted him to think I'm pretty!"

"Bell, you're gorgeous. Your boob soze doesn't matter." Blossom was kind of done with Bell's boob melodrama. Then again, she gave them all Hell with her weight loss craze and Bubbles drove everyone crazy with her braces meltdown.

And don't get them started on Buttercup's growth spurt.

So, her sisters figured Bell was allowed to whine over being a little lacking in the breast department.

"Easy for you guys to say! Bubbles is the Double D Queen, you're a thick redheaded version of Holly Wood, and Buttercup has the biggest B's I've ever seen! But me? Oh, I'm a freaking flatland! Sooner or later, he's gonna see some hot, big boobed bimbo and dump me." Bell sobbed into her pillow as her sisters rolled their eyes at her dramatics.

"...Is...Is anyone gonna tell her?"

"Nope, let her learn."

"She'll figure out Blare's tastes on her own."

* * *

The next morning, after sending Blare a text, Bell grudingly went to the school on her own. Since she was a part of the theater club, she had to be at Saturday morning practice. And Blare was going to fill in for their sound specialist since he had broken his arms in a freak ice cream cart accident.

Bell still didn't know the details for that.

The white puff floated into the theater, somber, when she came to see everyone staring as Princess and Missie fought over Blare.

"Back off, you silicon stuffed freak, he's mine!"

"As if, Bratty McB*tchBucks! He's going to dinner with me, right, Blare?"

"No, he's going out with me tonight! Isn't that right, Blarie Poo?"

Blare was _royally_ done. _This is the last time I work with the theater troupe._

 _Why...why that...those..._ Bell's enraged scream tore through the theater (which sucked because there were really good acoustics), and it could be heard across town. Suddenly she was in their faces, "I TOLD YOU SLUTS TO BACK OFF!"

"Oh look, its the Flatland, everyone!"

"Awww, did we make the baby upset?"

"I'M GONNA RIP YOUR STD RIDDLED FACES OFF!"

"What was that? I couldn't hear you over the lack of boob you have."

"You need to go back to elementary school. Come back when you actually mature."

"Blare Bear, were you really going to take one of those tramps out?" She was near tears, she couldn't lose Blare already. She just got him.

Blare hated that look, it meant Bell was gonna burst into tears at any second. He shook his head. "No."

Sniff. "Then why were you letting them rub those big, stupid boobs in your face?" Blare stared down at her and, suddenly, as he thought over the word "boobs", he noticed Bell's chest.

She was wearing a padded bra.

Blare resisted the strong, strong urge to smack his hand to his face. Bell thought he liked big boobs.

She really was clueless.

Before he could speak, Princess did. "Obviously, he wishes you had bigger boobs. I mean, no boy likes a flat chest brat like you. Blare, you should ditch this child," she hugged his arm, "and hang out with me. We'll have some _real_ fun."

"Or you could skip the trashy idiot," Missie purred, "and come over to my place. My parents are out of town tonight." Blare stared at the three girls blankly before saying:

"I don't like big boobs."

Bell stared.

Princess stared.

Missie stared.

Blare...didn't like...big boobs?

The silver haired boy freed his trapped arm and walked over to his girlfriend. He wiped her tears and kissed her on the forehead, "even if I did, I wouldn't leave my girlfriend for a girl with bigger boobs. That's stupid."

"...That's..."

"Stupid?!" Blare nodded. He glared at the other two.

"Why would I leave Bell for you? You're both annoying." The group, who had been watching this drama go down, laughed as Princess sputtered and Missie gasped. "Stop bugging us."

"So...so...you don't think...I should be...be bigger?"

"No."

"So...you think I'm prettier than them?"

"Yes." Bell blinked before breaking out in a huge grin and hugging him.

"Oh, Blaaaare Beeeeeaaar, that's so sweet! I'm sorry for being so ridiculous! Ha, you're right, as if I _need_ big boobs! Big boobs are so last century!" Happy that, that foolishness was over, the drama teacher called Bell over to try on a new costume for next month's play. Bell jumped and pulled Blare along, pushing past the two girls as they gaped at Blare, "come on, Blare. You have _got_ to see this dress! I make such a cute Juliet, don't you think?"

Blare nodded. He wasn't listening, he was just glad his girlfriend wasn't worried about her chest anymore. He let her pull him so he could watch her glorious legs strut in front of him.

She didn't need to know that he was more of a leg man anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

**WHO WANTS SOME ROWDYRUFF BOY BONDING WITH FOOD?** **I am currently working on the next chapter of GM, but this came to me while I was thinking of food. I originally planned to have the girls in it, but then my mind said "The boys' lives don't revolve around them. Let's let the boys have some bro time." and I said "good idea!"** **And what better way to hang with your bros than to teach your former assassin and very, very sheltered bro how to snack?**

 **P.S. Blare talks a little strange here because he's only been in the US for about seven months and before he would speak in either Russian or Ukranian. So his accent is more heavily pronounced than when he gets older.**

* * *

Growing Boys

Blare sat on the couch, energy spent from the interrogation that had taken place earlier. Though, officially, he was now a part of Project Rowdyruff, Blare still had to undergo intense psychological reconnaissance for the building case against his former higher ups.

He hated it, but it was the price he paid to be with his new...brothers. In the short time he had been here, Blare had been fully integrated into the Rowdyruff Boys. Dr. Weasel and Dr. Brisbane had expressed a sort of joy from how well the transition had taken place.

Butch seemed set on showing Blare the ropes. Though his "How to be a Ruff" lessons usually ended them both in trouble.

Boomer seemed content with having a "little brother", despite the fact that Blare acted older than he did half the time.

Brick was, by far, the one he had grown closest to. He was smart, levelheaded, and -to Blare- easier to speak with. Brick understood that Blare hadn't come here under peaceful circumstances.

So, Blare happily did as he was told, if it meant getting to stay with his brothers.

"Yooo! Bro, there ya are!" Though, he did sometimes wish that they'd be quieter. The platinum blonde ruff looked blankly at Butch, who launched himself onto the couch. He was eating some brightly colored wedges from a plastic bag. The front of the bag read "Assorted Fruit Slices".

Strange, those wedges looked nothing like fruit. Butch saw the empty gaze his new brother was giving him and scowled, hiding the bag. "No way, Blare," he growled, "I ain't sharin'."

Raising an eyebrow, Blare reached for the remote. "Pffft. Whatever."

"Hey, dudes, check it out! I got the last of the barbeque chips!" Boomer came floating in, another plastic bag tucked under his arm as he shoveled the fragrant fried potatoes into his mouth, crumbs falling on the usually immaculate floor. Butch groaned.

"Boomer! I wanted those next." The blue eyed boy shrugged.

"Sucks to be you then," he sat on Blare's other side. "Whatcha watchin', Blare?"

"I am not sure. I have just turned on the television."

"Bro, we call it a TV."

"Yeah, so much easier."

"Will you two shut up? He can call it whatever he wants," Brick came in with a can in one hand and a bowl of strange, whitish yellow bumpy puffs. He sat opposite of Boomer. "So, who's up for Washout?"

"Me! Me!"

"No way, let's watch American Creepy Story."

"That show sucks, though."

"Does not!"

"Does to!"

"Why are you all eating? Is it the dinner time already?" The three boys stared at Blare in confusion. They quickly noticed that Blare was the only one without a snack.

"...No?"

"Dude, are you hungry? There's a ton of snacks in the pantry." Boomer blinked when Blare stared at him.

"But it is not the time for dinner."

"Well, no, but...dinner's three hours away and...we just got out of intense training."

Brick thought for a moment. "Though, you were excused from training again, so that explains why you're not as hungry as us...but, now that I think about it...Blare, do you ever eat outside of dinner?"

"Yes. I eat at breakfast and lunch." Butch stared.

"Nothing else?"

The gray ruff shook his head. Honestly, he did not understand why they were shocked. In his old home, if he tried to sneak food outside of mealtime, he would suffer severe consequences. He learned to ignore his hunger until his next meal.

Were...were things different here?

Brick, Boomer, and Butch stared in surprise. The boys' powers required a lot of energy. You don't fly at 190 miles an hour, lift over several cubic tons (leisurely), and fire beams of concentrated energy without burning some major fuel. Hell, even the Powerpuff Girls' powers worked the same way.

The best way to replenish energy was eating (and getting plenty of sleep). So, after training sessions or battles, every X' positive person found themselves carb loading to replenish their energy.

Not one of them stuck to three meals a day, only.

Except, apparently, Blare.

TV and snacks forgotten, the boys all started talking at the same time.

"Dude, you have to eat more o-"

"How do you even do that? I'd be tearin' through pe-"

"Blare, you're supposed to eat three full meals with light snacks between them." At least Brick didn't look like Blare had just admitted to launching a nuclear bomb.

Blare was thankful that he never did, but still.

Boomer jumped up, "do you even have a favorite snack?"

"...No."

"Well, little bro, have no fear"-there he goes with the little brother nonsense"-Big Brother Boomer is here to help!" In a navy blue flash, his idiotic brother was gone and back with a plethora of snacks in his arms. "We gotta find a snack for you."

"Boomer, I do not think-"

"That's a great idea," Butch suddenly shouted before disappearing in a forest green streak. He came back with more snacks. "Brick's favorite snack is popcorn, Boomer goes crazy for chips, and I like gummy candy. So we gotta get you a favorite snack."

Blare looked at Brick for help.

Said redhead shrugged, "might as well do it. They won't leave you alone until you do."

"Some help you are being."

He looked above the sea of salty, sweet, and sour foods before trying some of Butch's gummies. "Count yourself lucky, I don't share these with anyone." He put one in his mouth and chewed before blinking.

"It is...sticky..."

"Yeah, those gummy bears are pretty chewy."

"Hmm...they do not tasting bad...but I do not think these are my favorite." _But they are good_ , Blare decided. Next, he tried some chips in this strange cylinder.

What is a Fringle?

"Oh, those are my favorite! This one is Sour Cream and Red Onion and this one is Sea Salt and Vinegar." Blare tried both.

"I think I am liking the Sour Cream and Red Onion...the other one...not so much."

"Yeah, some people don't like that flavor too much." Bubbles did, but Boomer would never tell his brothers that.

For hours, Blare sampled snacks. Brick had him try Cheese Bits, Boomer begged him to try Whizzlers, and Butch would not give him peace until he tried Wo-gurt cups. Soon, Blare was getting tired of all this snacking. It had been an hour and, while many were tasty, none of these were his favorites.

His brothers felt the same. Popcorn, chips, yogurt, ice cream, candy, they had tried it all. Blare sighed, "I am appreciating your concerns, but I do not think I will be finding my favorite today."

"Dude, this sucks. How can someone not have a favorite snack? I mean, even those wimpy powderpuffs have one." Butch looked at Boomer.

"Seriously? How do you know?"

"My counterpart doesn't spend every moment with me trying to bash my head into a wall. And she likes banana chips."

"Of course, because she's a weirdo," Butch spat. "And Buttercup doesn't always try to kill me...and she's cool. She likes nachos."

"Yeah, right. I believe the nachos thing, but she totally can't stand you."

"Shut up, Boomer!"

"Both of you shut up." Brick wondered why these two were such idiots. At least Blare didn't get into stupid arguments. Boomer looked at Brick.

"Hey, do you know Blossom's favorite snack?"

"Cotton candy. Remember when the school carnival thing was happening?"

"Oh yeah," the two thought back to that day fondly. Then Butch gasped and pointed behind Brick. Boomer looked and suddenly broke into a grin. Brick turned and stared.

Blare was happily muching on an open bag of honey mustard flavored pretzels. He looked at them, "I am really liking these. Are there more?"

The resounding cheer was unnecessary.

That night, Dr. Weasel wondered why Blare wasn't tearing through his dinner like usual. Often, by the time dinner was half over, the gray ruff would be on his forth helping. But now, Blare was simply enjoying his meal and the company of his team.

The company of his family.

* * *

 **#LetBlareEat2k18**


	9. Chapter 9

OKAY! SO hear me out- (gets hit with a pan)- I know I'm late updating GM and I honestly have NO excuse for it. The next chapter is 50% done, I promise. We'll get new characters and we'll see Buttercup learn to fight monsters. It'll be good, I promise. But while I was on the bus going home today, I was listening to Halsey and thought, I haven't updated Beautiful Disasters in a while. And the song "Colors" came on and I thought it would make a perfect song for the Powerpunk Girls.

So here it is...sorry if it's a little sappy, but the song is a little sad too.

* * *

Colors

She stared at the front of the classroom, paying attention for the first and only time of the day. She didn't care that it was sixth period. She didn't care that it was Creative Writing, the most boring class according to her and her friends. Ever since the beginning of this year, she had never been late to this class and will always listen to every word of it. Because it was his favorite class and he was always willing to chat with her over the homework assigned or the topics discussed.

She pushed her copper tone hair out of her face, scanning over the poem that she had worked for weeks on. It was one of the few assignments she had ever really worked on, barely scraping by on her grades. It wasn't like her father really cared about what she did, so long as she didn't ruin his already tarnished reputation. Her sisters did that enough for him already and he didn't need her to add to it. He said he knew how that felt. His brothers took attention away from him too. His little brothers showered him with affection, but he was the only one who noticed that his mother's smiles are fake enough that they should be on TV. It was the only time that she felt any connection to anyone, so she fell deeper for his slightly doped up, sorry excuse for a heart that held onto the desperately old soul.

She didn't know when she started feeling so hard around him. Before they met, the world was grey with random splotches of red. But when he entered into the room, it was like he sprayed various shades of blue and suddenly the world seemed so different, especially when she looked at it from his point of view. The color of his sighs seemed to overflow like a runny sink, making a mess in her grey scale world that she could never hope to clean up without fixing the leak permanently. But what if you wanted to the leak to go on, if only to drown out the grey? He didn't see how he was making her world a mess, he didn't see anything other than the color blue.

As she watched him approach the front, the others around leaned in. His words had the uncanny ability to paint a picture, to become an over-saturated sunrise or a raging stormy sea. Those around him fell in love, while others fell in misery. Sometimes she was on one side and other times, she was on the other. She didn't know which side was better, to be honest. When it was blue, like the jeans he loves so much or the ink staining his hands, was it then? Or was it when it was grey, like the nicotine smoke from his cigarettes and the chalk in his hair? Was it when they sat together for hours, watching the people go by? When he was higher than heaven on his drugs and she was just high from being near him?

To be honest, each side hurt and she didn't know how to choose. He got to the front and began to speak. His words slipped like they were being written by a fallen angel on holy doctrine, painting the picture of pain and sorrow. He sang the myths of love and happiness without changing a note. Her heart ached in ways that were so sweet, that she didn't know how to cope. Why was it when it's anyone else, she would have flipped the whole building upside down for confusing her, but when it's him...it's like the world is being dosed with light shades of sky and robin's egg paint?

She hates when she wakes up, she sees his face in the morning...whether the sun is shining or it's the gloomy overcast sky. If she had a dream about him, she could swear she entered heaven for the first time. She was never one to believe, but what else could it mean when you're with the one who makes you see the world in different colors like this? If she told him this, he would laugh. He said he would stay an atheist until he found true forgiveness for the sins of his brothers and himself. His gloomy face and soul where what she went to sleep with, but his misery is what she woke up to alone.

He finally came down after the teacher critiqued him, if you could call it that. No matter what, he could do no wrong in this school. Perfect grades, perfect attendance, and a perfectly sad smile on his face. How could you criticize a soul like his? Would you find mistakes in Michelangelo's David? Could you find the flaws in De Vinci's Mona Lisa? To try would be an insult to all that was considered art. Her pink eyes followed his sandy blonde hair and stayed on him for the longest time. She looked away before she could see her sister tease him with a flirty smile.

Of course, regardless of how she felt, he would never know the depths of how she feels. She once thought that maybe, one day, she could let him know. Maybe they could be the perfect mess together. He could mix his blues with her passionate reds and watch the shades of purple paint the skies and ground like modern art. He could be sad with her and she'll let him rage with her. He could cry on her shoulders and sigh along with her. She could yell with him and grumble as the ground shook. But he didn't feel that way for her. He didn't feel like that for anyone here.

Not her sisters.

Not his friends.

Not the girls in their class.

Not her.

The girl who caused his melancholy was in a different place. She was red, like her. But she was perfect. She was like a bright, shiny apple at the top of the minty leave colored trees, a goal he could never reach. She was the dingy crab apple on the ground that he didn't notice by his feet. Her hair was like rubies while hers was like copper. One was hard to find and keep while the other was always around and uninteresting. He just wasn't interested in the colors that she was offering to him. Even though she practically ripped her heart out to give him the red of her soul, he looked at it like it was discount ink with no remorse.

Maybe that's what she loved the most is the fact that he didn't love her back, but it didn't make the truth easier to handle-

"Hey, Berserk! C'mon, class is over!"

"Hey! Let's skip seventh and eighth and hit the mall."

"Good idea, Brat...coming, Ber?"

"...I'll be right there," gathering her things, she glanced back in his direction. He didn't pay her any mind.

\- And it didn't make her world any less black.

 _Your little brother never tells you but he loves you so_  
 _You said your mother only smiled on her TV show_  
 _You're only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope_  
 _I hope you make it to the day you're twenty-eight years old_

* * *

Okay, to be honest, this was hard to write at first but I like it the most. I was listening to the song and thought it applied to Berserk. I thought that with Blossom being the perfect one, it might be difficult for Berserk to compete with. Blossom's more than likely got admirers in different places, and the Rowdyrite Boys might idolize the Powerpuff Girls (since they've been superheroes for longer than they have). I also thought it would be an interesting change to see some mixed color pairings, which I usually don't write. Break is the guy that she's so in love with, he's Brat's counterpart and his personality is moodier than Boomer's and Bubbles. He's also smarter too, which explainswhy he gets perfect grades while Boomer's struggling to keep up with his straight C's. I wanted to give the Powerpunk's a more grim lifestyle, since they were meant to be the antithesis to the Powerpuff Girls. While the PPG live in a world where justice reigns supreme and the future is bright, the PPnks see a world where justice isn't always right and the shades of grey can overshadow the light.

...Look, I don't know okay?! Writer's Block was weak against the song and I am weak against the muse!


End file.
